


When Life Gives You Shooting Stars (Go Back In Time)

by HappyStony



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Going back in time, M/M, Marriage, Misunderstandings, Peter Parker briefly mentioned, Pining, Poor Clint, Shooting Stars, Stalker, Unrequited Love, Wishes, but Steve and Tony are meant for each other, don’t worry Clint will have his happy ending tho, fuck buddies, i don’t know, would this be crack taken seriously?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-07 09:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15216491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyStony/pseuds/HappyStony
Summary: Is it all that crazy if a stupid wish and a shooting star brought him all the way back here?Back here. Back to when he first met Steve.Back when Steve didn’t know Tony.Back when—Holy shit.The universe is trying to set him up with Steve.Or:Through the power of a well timed shooting star and a desperate wish, Clint is able to go back to the day he first met Steve and change how they first meet. He goes over and over again, trying and failing to make Steve fall in love with him, until he realizes that maybe Steve isn’t meant for him, and someone else is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was fun and quick to write! It was probably easy because it’s heavily based on the movie “When We First Met” on Netflix! Give it a watch! And hopefully y’all enjoy the story :)

I.

 

He doesn’t know how Steve can stand it. Sure, it’s not like Clint knows Tony all that well, but he’s been around him enough to know this: Tony drinks coffee like it’s water, and if there’s one thing that Clint hates most in the world, it’s coffee. How can Steve stand having to be around the smell? Every single fucking breakfast, and probably lunch and dinner too. Clint wouldn’t be surprised if Tony enjoyed it as a midnight snack as well

 

Oh dear God, and having to kiss that mouth? With the stench of coffee as a constant linger?

 

He’s just glad at least he isn’t the one marrying Tony.

 

But maybe he’s just a teensy bit upset over the fact that it isn’t him marrying Steve.

 

Hell, he’s known Steve the longest out of the two of them. Granted, only by a day or two but that’s forty eight hours that Tony never had. The best forty eight hours of Clint’s entire flipping life.

 

Fuck. He needs another drink. Pronto.

 

And there goes Pepper with another round of champagne. Perfect. He grabs three. Pepper only rolls her eyes and continues on. He’s grateful for that. He doesn’t know Pepper very well either, mostly a friend of a friends boyfriend—er, fiancée now? Right. They’re getting married. Yeah. What was he thinking? Oh—he’s grateful to know her. She mostly minds her own business. Doesn’t stir a lot of trouble. Why does Stark have all the good friends? Clint has basically nobody. Besides Natasha. Now that’s at least one person that Tony doesn’t have under his clutches, and never will.

 

He hopes.

 

“Wow,” someone says from behind him, just as he downs the third champagne glass. He startles, quickly gulping and turning around. Ah. James Barnes. Or Bucky. Also someone Tony doesn’t have under his clutches, but he’s Steve’s best friend (first best friend. Clint’s easily number three at least), so based on principle Bucky has to like Tony, so that brings it back down to one person again: Natasha. “Don’t look too excited. You’re scaring all the guests.”

 

Clint fake laughs, setting the glass down with the others, in front of him on the coffee table in the living room. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, straightening up. He hiccups.

 

“Aha—funny. Very funny, Barnes. No. I’m actually having a great time, alright? Just been a little—out of it.”

 

He somehow stumbles, proving his point. Is he drunk? Oh. There’s Pepper again. He walks over, grabbing two more glasses while she’s talking to a different group of people. He downs them, turning to see Bucky gone. He looks around for a familiar face, and then he finds Natasha talking to one of Tony’s other close friends—Rhodey, was it?

 

He walks over, careful not to stumble.

 

“Hey, babe,” he says, wrapping an arm around Natasha. She lets him do it, shifting to accommodate his weight. Is he really leaning that heavily on her? Oh. He is.

 

“Woah there buddy. Did someone get a little too excited with the champagne?” Rhodey asks, amusement clear in his eyes.

 

“This is Clint. I think you two have met before.”

 

“Yeah,” Clint says, pointing at Rhodey and squinting. “I know your name. I don’t know how.”

 

Rhodey laughs good-naturedly.

 

“Yeah, yeah. During those barbecues and whatnot. Don’t think we’ve ever really talked though.”

 

“Nope,” Clint says, popping the P. He kisses Natasha’s cheek and walks away, looking for someone else.

 

It takes his awhile to realize who. He regrets it immediately when he see’s him laughing with Tony, who’s telling a story to a group of people.

 

“—and I literally just went up to him and said, look, ‘Hey, I’m sorry to bother you but my friends keep saying how we’d make the cutest couple’. And, well, as you can tell it surprisingly worked. Of course I had no friends with me at the time—“

 

Everyone laughs, and Steve catches his eye somehow.

 

He kisses Tony’s cheek, his fiancée not once hesitating or flinching through the rest of his story. It’s as if he’s used to Steve’s kisses. Stupid, stupid Clint, of course he’s used to Steve’s kisses—they’ve been dating for almost two years now. Right. Two years on their wedding day—perfectly planned. All Steve’s idea. What a brilliant fucking idea.

 

“Hey Clint,” Steve breathes once he’s close enough. He’s glowing. He’s literally glowing and Clint has never felt so drunk and so sober in his life. “How’re you doing? Oh, are you okay? Do you need some water?”

 

Clint gags. Oh God, Steve looks so happy. This is so bad. Steve’s never looked so happy before; this rivals the time Tony first asked him out. Second worst day of Clint’s life.

 

This is easily the first.

 

“No I’m—‘m good. Good. Great. You’re glowing?”

 

Steve slowly turns red, his smile returning sheepishly. He’s laughing at Clint. Why is he laughing at Clint? That’s so mean. Why would he be laughing at such a terrible time?

 

“Hey, I think we should go outside. Get you a bit of a breather.”

 

They walk back to where Clint just came from. He notices that Pepper joined Natasha and Rhodey’s conversation, and Clint immediately goes for the last champagne glass in her hand.

 

“Oop, oop no—Clint—“

 

Pepper’s grip on her drink tightens unconsciously, and as Clint tugs a little harder than necessary he accidentally splashes it onto his shirt. He gasps, and so do the people around him.

 

“Clint,” Natasha hisses, and Rhodey mutters something about grabbing napkins. Steve is apologizing to Pepper, and Clint is wandering off again.

 

“Hey, Clint—Clint—“

 

Steve comes up behind him, lightly taking his arm. He’s dragging him towards the backyard, where it’s cold and there’s less people. No. He doesn’t want to be there.

 

“Holy shit,” Bucky laughs from his right, and his eyes snap towards him. He’s right next to Sam Wilson—Steve’s second best friend. Who also doesn’t suck up to Tony. He likes Sam. Sam’s smart. “How did that happen in less than ten minutes?”

 

“Yeah,” Steve says distractedly, tugging Clint towards his friends. “Can you take him outside actually? I’ve gotta get back to Tony. And here’s the water. Make sure he drinks it.” He gives Sam the water bottle he grabbed who knows when and gives Clint a firm grip on his shoulder before heading off. Clint feels betrayed and glares at Steve’s retreating figure.

 

“Sorry,” he hears Sam say, and when he looks back at them, Sam is handing an annoyed Bucky the water bottle. “All yours, buddy. I’ve gotta go take a piss.”

 

“Sure,” Bucky replies. “And while you’re at it tell Steve and Tony I say hi.”

 

Sam winks. “Will do, buddy, will do.”

 

With a great sigh, Bucky gently starts to tug Clint outside.

 

Once they’re out, Clint’s surprised to see that they’re the only ones. Everyone else is warm and toasty inside. And they happen to know each other better than Clint does, so that should also explain that. Everyone is mingling. Except Clint. And apparently Bucky.

 

“So what’s going on then,” Bucky says after an awkward amount of silence. He’s still holding the water bottle, and he hasn’t done his job in forcing Clint to drink it. That’s...smart. “I mean, you aren’t exactly hiding the fact that you’re basically throwing yourself a little pity party. I just don’t know why.”

 

Clint snorts. “Wow. Well you’re—dumb. Dumb. Like a bum.”

 

Bucky doesn’t look amused.

 

He blinks owlishly, trying to get his thoughts back together. Might as well tell him, right?

 

“I fucked up,” Clint admits, crossing his arms. He looks up at the sky instead of Bucky’s face. “I fucked up my one chance. And now here I am, dealing with the consequences of that a year and a half later.”

 

Fine. He finally said it to someone other than Nat. Somehow he doesn’t feel any fucking better.

 

It takes awhile for Bucky to speak.

 

“So,” he starts, obviously still in the process of figuring out what to say. “You...you like Steve. That’s—I shouldn’t be surprised.”

 

Clint laughs. “Ooh, I wish I just liked him. I’m completely in love with him. I’m in love with him! I’m in love with—“

 

Bucky lunges and covers his mouth, his eyes wide and looking around.

 

“God, Clint, trying to tell the whole world here? Why did you come anyway? It’s an engagement party.”

 

“Psh, you want me to make it anymore obvious? I had to come. He invited me. He wanted me to come.”

 

Bucky stares at him. Wow. He never realized how pretty Bucky’s eyes were this close. They’re so dark and mysterious. A lot like his personality.

 

“You’re so fucking drunk. Take this.”

 

He shoves the water bottle into Clint’s chest, rubbing his face. He looks frustrated. Why is he frustrated? Clint didn’t do anything. Does he think Clint’s lying?

 

“It’s true,” Clint says defensively. “He invited me.”

 

“Just—shut up. Why the hell did you have to go and tell me this? Now I’ve gotta—now I’ve gotta go back in there and just pretend I don’t know that you’ve been pining after my best friend for over a year. That’s sad, Clint. And it isn’t right.”

 

Clint sits down on the ground, smiling up at the sky. The same sky he and Steve met under, all those months ago.

 

“You wanna know how we met?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“It was on the Fourth of July. Two days ago before he met Tony at that charity benefit.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Clint looks at him at that. Bucky’s frowning at the ground.

 

“I think I remember that actually. It was the night of that shooting star.”

 

Clint nods. “Yup. Made a wish that night.”

 

“I think everyone did.”

 

“Even you?”

 

Bucky doesn’t answer that.

 

“So, how did you two meet? Did you two just bump into each other?”

 

Clint hums, thinking of that fateful night.

 

 

**July Fourth, a year and a half ago:**

 

The fireworks explode up above, coloring the night sky with red, white and blue. It’s a beautiful sight, but Clint’s eyes aren’t trained on it for long, as someone taps his shoulder and asks for another beer. It’s a warm night, warm enough to wear a tank top and shorts. He has his sunglasses on still, but he keeps them on, always a fan of being different.

 

He passes Natasha the beer bottle, and before she can run off he asks if she’s met any hot dudes yet.

 

She laughs at him. “Plenty, but I don’t think any of them would be interested in you, blondie.”

 

“Never know,” he says with a wink.

 

He turns around, but then she’s grabbing his arm and pulling him towards another group of people. He lets her, because he’s the only one guarding their blanket and alcohol and he was starting to get lonely.

 

“Actually, you’re right. Let me introduce you to these guys,” Natasha says, walking towards an impressive group of men.

 

She taps a guys shoulder, and the guy turns around and grins when he see’s it’s Natasha. Clint does his best not to roll his eyes. Of course she already met a complete hotty. Sometimes he wonders what life would have been like if he fell in love with Natasha.

 

He decides on sexy. His life would be very sexy.

 

“Oh hey, girl. Who’s this?” The guy asks, eyeing Clint. Any other type of attention would have made Clint blush, but the guy looks like he’s trying to size Clint up. Ha. Clint is not that type of threat.

 

“Clint, this is Sam. He’s pretty cool. Sam, Clint.”

 

“Pretty cool?” Sam asks, scoffing. “Well here I was thinking you were amazing.”

 

Natasha rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She starts to shove Clint towards the inner part of the group. Oh wait, she actually expects him to mingle? Find a random gay guy out of a pool of straight ones? Like that’s easy to do.

 

“Go, make some more friends. Maybe get lucky.”

 

“Ooh,” Sam says with a laugh. Oh good, the guy is relieved now. “If you’re here for that, there’s actually a bunch of hot girls over there.” He points farther off towards his left. “Guaranteed at least one will take an interest.”

 

“He’s not interested in them,” Natasha says, her eyebrows raised. It takes a second for Sam to understand, and he jumps when another firework goes off. Clint ducks his head to hide his laugh.

 

“Oh! Oh, okay. I’ve actually—that’s perfect, come here.” 

 

Clint raises his eyebrows in surprise. He waves Natasha goodbye and lets Sam drag him wherever. He’s got nowhere else to go, that’s for sure, and maybe whoever Sam knows is good looking.

 

Sam stops in front of a brunet, standing alone and staring at his phone. He taps him and the guy looks up, his eyes narrowed. He immediately gives Clint the creeps. Please don’t be him! Then his eyes snap to Clint, and before Sam can speak he says, loudly, “Sam, I told you I’m not—“

 

“Ready, I know, whatever. I’m actually looking for Steve. You know where he is?”

 

The guy sighs, shaking his head. He’s back on his phone, typing. Sam taps him again, and then he’s saying, “Can you take him to Steve then? I think he’ll like this one, Barnes.”

 

“Ah, still trying to play Cupid. Pathetic.”

 

Clint bites his tongue, and brunet rolls his eyes, walking away. He barely heard his, “Come on, I think the loser’s somewhere over here.” Luckily Clint caught it through the commotion and follows him. Sam is already nowhere to be seen. God, Sam’s obviously desperate. A part of Clint feels bad for him, because Natasha isn’t the type for a one night stand. He’ll soon find out, but hopefully he isn’t an asshole about it.

 

They stop behind a tall, shirtless blond, and Clint holds his breath when depressed brunet taps his shoulder.

 

“Hey, Stevie, got somebody here for you.”

 

“Huh?”

 

The guy turns around, and Clint’s breath catches. The man is gorgeous. Absolutely stunning, even with paint splattered onto his face and naked chest. In fact, especially with paint all over him. He’s beautiful.

 

Brunet leaves without a goodbye or waiting for blond boy to say anything, and right away Clint tries to find something to start a conversation.

 

“Clint. And you are?”

 

“Steve,” blondie says, shaking Clint’s hand. It’s firm and warm. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

 

“I’m crashing,” Clint replies. “My friend dragged me here. Have no idea who anyone is.”

 

Steve laughs. “Honestly I have no idea who half these people are either. Sam went crazy with the invitations.”

 

“Invitations?”

 

“Oh,” Steve says, laughing again. “It’s actually my birthday. Finally twenty four!”

 

A particular loud firework explodes just then, and everyone yells excitedly. Both the men wince, and on a whim Clint says, “Wanna get out of here, birthday boy?”

 

Fuck. Why did he do that? It’s the guys birthday. Why would he want to go out with a stranger? Someone who looks like him? Clint isn’t even all that attractive, he knows that oh man—

 

He watches Steve hesitate, and then grin.

 

“Sure.”

 

Clint tugs him away, feeling his heart thud against his chest. Steve’s wrist feels so warm and soft. He’s touching Steve! Steve’s actually leaving with him.

 

He knows nothing about Steve?

 

“Hey,” he says, turning around and walking in pace with Steve. They walk aimlessly, away from the noise and crowd. “Um. Steve. You were born on the Fourth of July?”

 

It starts off easy like that. The conversation flows smoothly, as they both get to slowly know each other more. Steve laughs a lot, not particularly at Clint, but in an almost endearing way. It’s cute that he laughs a lot.

 

They end up walking towards a nearby gas station, and Clint knows exactly what to get.

 

“I love donuts,” Clint says around a mouthful of a chocolate one a few minutes later. “I could—I could eat them all day, honestly.”

 

“Oh God, don’t give me a stomach ache,” Steve groans, laughing. Clint shoulders him.

 

“They’re fucking delicious. Honestly if I had one thing to eat for the rest of my life—“

 

“You’re making me sick!”

 

“—fine. It’d be a tie between In N Out and donuts.”

 

“How can you compare them!” Steve asks. “Are you insane? You know, my best friend always tells me never to trust anyone who compares outrageous things. Never trustworthy.”

 

“Smart,” Clint says thoughtfully. “But doesn’t apply.”

 

Steve laughs again. Clint smiles at the wonderful sound.

 

“So how’s the birthday been going anyway?”

 

“Oh,” Steve says, nonchalant. “Same old same old. People congratulate you for living this long, you eat some cake and then you try not to die another year.”

 

“That’s...unexpectedly dark.”

 

Steve shrugs. “Sorry, rubs off on me.”

 

“I like it,” Clint decides. “It’s honest.”

 

“Really?” Steve asks with a grin. “I’ve never been one to be so pessimistic.”

 

“I like the way it looks on you,” Clint says.

 

He stares at Steve, who’s smiling down at his lap. He then looks at the sky. He looks so beautiful like this, even if they are at a crappy gas station, with a yellow flickering light bulb as their only source of light. Steve still manages to look stunning.

 

Clint opens his mouth to say something, but then Steve gasps and claps Clint’s shoulder.

 

“Look! Look! A shooting star!”

 

Clint looks up, and right away he see’s it. A small, but very vibrant white light. It’s shooting quickly across the sky, and then only a few seconds later it’s completely gone.

 

Steve has his eyes closed. When he opens them again, he finds Clint staring at him.

 

“Did you make a wish?” Steve asks softly.

 

Right then and there Clint does.

 

I wish I can stay here forever.

 

Clint smiles. “Yeah. You?”

 

Steve looks back up at the sky.

 

“I wished to meet the One.”

 

 

 

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “shouldn’t have that been the first sign that, I don’t know, he wasn’t interested?”

 

“Hey,” Clint says, frowning. “It was a magical moment. And anyways, I thought I was the One he was supposed to meet. Still am.” He burps wetly.

 

“Right,” Bucky says wryly.

 

The wind starts to pick up, and Bucky sighs, folding his arms and curling into himself. Clint wonders when Bucky cut his hair. It used to be long. Really long. When did he cut it?

 

Bucky snorts. “It’s been a month.”

 

Clint opens and closes his mouth. Okay. He said that out loud? He looks down at the water bottle in his hand and decides to drink it. It’s silent then, the wind still howling.

 

“Okay. I’m gonna go inside now. Try not to fuck anything up, alright? I’ll drive you home in a bit.”

 

Clint waves a hand at Bucky’s retreating figure. “Yeah, yeah.”

 

Bucky turns around, pointing his finger at Clint and giving him a stern eye. “Don’t move. Unless you get too cold. In that case, go to me first.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

Bucky continues to eye him, and then he opens the door. The sound of laughter and chatter fills his ears, and then Bucky closes it and leaves, and then there’s only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, their leaves sounding like an odd jingle.

 

He drinks some more water. It isn’t helping at all. At least he thinks it isn’t. What’s the water for again?

 

He looks up at the sky, glaring.

 

“Fuck you,” he says tiredly. He drinks some more water. Glares harder. “Fuck you!”

 

The wind grows harder, the feel of it colder and more harsh. His shirt feels sticky now, from the champagne. He frowns, rolling his eyes at the sky.

 

“Oh yeah, give me your worst, like you haven’t already.”

 

The sky darkens, and then it starts to lightly rain.

 

Oh great. Now Clint gets to wake up with a cold and a massive hangover tomorrow morning. Just what he needs.

 

He flips the bird upwards, hoping to piss off at least something up there before he leaves and looks for Steve. Or Natasha. Wait, Bucky? No, Steve.

 

Something catches his eye as he lowers his hand, and he doesn’t need to blink, or need another second to process what he see’s.

 

It’s a shooting star up there, way above the clouds and the sprinkling rain. A shooting fucking star.

 

He immediately closes his eyes, and wishes with all of his might:

 

“Please,” he whispers desperately, “I want to go back.”

 

He passes out, exhausted, drunk, and cold.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I feel like the first two chapters are the most boring, so please bear with me! I promise there’s a lot more in chapter three and beyond!!

II.

 

He’s sleeping on his stomach, his arms outstretched and cheek squished against his pillow. He’s drooling messily, lightly snoring. He wakes up with an abrupt snort.

 

He groans, rolling over. He smacks his lips a couple times, rubbing his stomach. He blinks his eyes open, and then yawns obnoxiously. He stretches, and forces himself upright.

 

What is wrong? He can’t quite put a finger on it.

 

Hm. Last night. What happened last night? He rubs his eyes, thinking.

 

Right. Right. The engagement party, for Steve and Tony. Clint got drunk.

 

Why isn’t he hungover? He feels great. He feels like he had a good nights sleep. And it was raining. Sprinkling, at least. Maybe it wasn’t enough for a cold.

 

He stretches a bit more and then gets out of bed. He has that weird sensation again, like something is wrong, but he pushes it aside as he heads for the bathroom.

 

He looks at his toothbrush. Hm. He swears it was blue. Why is it purple? And his toothpaste. He just bought one! How is it already almost empty?

 

He looks around, then heads for the shower. Different shampoo. Different conditioner. Is that his old bath sponge? He lost that months ago!

 

What is going on? He needs his phone. Where is his phone?

 

He finds his phone near his bed stand, where it usually is, but it isn’t his current phone. It’s his old phone. It’s his old old phone. Why is it here?

 

He unlocks it, and finds a few messages from Natasha.

 

From: Natasha

Do you still have that merica shirt with Abraham Lincoln on it

 

From: Natasha

I’m gonna wear it be there later

 

From: Natasha

Never mind just saw a basic red white and booze one for 7.99 think I’m gonna get it

 

This isn’t right. That’s for the Fourth of July. It isn’t—

 

He drops his phone, fisting his fingers into his hair.

 

Something is wrong.

 

He paces. He can look at the date on his phone? No. It’ll only freak him out more. This is a prank, isn’t it? Is this suppose to be the future or something? Oh God what if he’s been in a fucking coma!

 

No. Snap out of it. He couldn’t have been in a coma for almost six months. Lord, he’s such an idiot!

 

He picks his phone up again, checking the date. He almost drops it when he see’s the year. There’s no way that’s true. There’s no way that his phone says he’s a year and a half into the past.

 

Or.

 

Hold up. There’s no way he is actually considering this. Is he considering this?

 

He looks for his keys, quickly grabbing them and leaving with his phone. He knows he’s in sweats and a tank top, but he leaves anyway, hoping to find Natasha.

 

Luckily he still has his baby girl, his beautiful Ford Ranger. Of course. If he’s really in the past, then he barely bought this baby a few months ago. God, is she beautiful.

 

Now. Where would Natasha be? It’s ten in the morning so she would be...at work. At work. Where did she work?

 

Oh, correction, where they both worked at Voyage Industries before Clint decided to quit, while she continued to work hard and eventually got promoted to Vice President, and earns millions.

 

That place. He hasn’t been there in ages.

 

As he drives toward his old job, he nervously drums his fingers. There’s no way that, if this happens to be a prank, she’d be able to pull this off at work. She’s too professional. So maybe, if he shows up, she can’t hide that she’s Vice President. It’s not like they can get the old Vice President back. He remembers him, of course. He shudders. Blake O’Donald was his name. Terrible man. He was a big reason why Clint couldn’t stay.

 

He arrives at her workplace, quickly getting inside and past the receptionist. He sneaks in, which really isn’t all that hard to do, but he would probably have had to do a lot less sneaking around if he was dressed more appropriately. But, he’s in the past. Give him a break.

 

He looks around the office floor, suddenly wondering where Natasha is. People are bumping into him, and walking around and past him. He knows he’s in the way, and eventually someone is going to ask him what he’s doing here. He looks at the Vice President door, wondering what would happen if he just waltzed in.

 

He decides against it.

 

“Natasha!” He hisses. No one does anything. “Natasha!”

 

Someone pops their head up, but he didn’t even need to see the face to know it was her. The red in her hair is obvious, and purely Natasha. She see’s him quickly, and when he gets to her, she scoots away from her computer to glare.

 

“Are you trying to get me fired? I already told you—I’ve got a shirt. I don’t need the Abraham Lincoln one.”

 

“First,” Clint says, and oh shoot this is so not the time but, “you need to stop planning your outfits so late. This should have been decided last week. Second—“

 

“Oh,” Natasha says, her eyes lighting up. “You want your job back, don’t you? This is good, Clint. That’s for once smart of you. But what you’re wearing isn’t—“

 

“No,” Clint says, “No way. I’m—Natasha, is this a prank?”

 

She blinks, taken back. “Excuse me?”

 

“This,” he asks, his arms flailing around him. “All of this. You’re supposed to be Vice President.”

 

“Gee Clint, thanks,” she says blandly. “But at this rate I don’t think I’m going anywhere. Maybe years from now.”

 

“Are you serious?” Clint asks. “You’re really—quick, what year is it?”

 

“Twenty sixteen,” she says in a heartbeat. “Why, what’s wrong?”

 

He pinches himself.

 

Hm. Maybe you can pinch yourself in a dream.

 

“Can you cut it out?” Natasha hisses, looking around. “Just—go home and get some sleep, alright? I’ll pick you up and we can go to Pioneer together, okay?”

 

He nods his head unconsciously, and then firmly shakes it.

 

“No, no—“ If he’s in the past—last time they didn’t go together. They made plans to meet up. “Let’s—let’s meet up. I’m fine. I’m fine! I’ll see you later.”

 

She opens her mouth, sound already coming out, but Clint hurries away, trying to wrap his brain around the whole thing.

 

 

 

It comes to him hours later, while he’s cooking eggs and still wondering how this became his life.

 

Steve. The star. His wish.

 

It makes sense, doesn’t it? He isn’t sure. It sounds absurd, but being in the past is absurd, so is it all that crazy if a stupid wish and a shooting star brought him all the way back here?

 

Back here. Back to when he first met Steve.

 

Back when Steve didn’t know Tony.

 

Back when—

 

Holy shit.

 

The universe is trying to set him up with Steve.

 

Now he knows why he’s here. It’s obvious. Steve ended up with the wrong guy. And to think Clint thought he was wrong all along. He knew something wasn’t right! Something was always missing—and it turns out it was Steve.

 

He smiles, thinking of the perfect plan.

 

~~~

 

He keeps looking at his watch, waiting until the clock hits ten. At least he thinks it was around that time when he met Steve.

 

He’s stayed right where he is this whole time. He hasn’t drunken or eaten anything, hasn’t gone to the bathroom—hasn’t moved at all, in fear that when Natasha comes to ask him to pass her a beer, he won’t be there, and he’ll miss his window opportunity to find Steve quickly.

 

Just as he starts to freak out, someone taps his shoulder.

 

He already has the beer in his hand, and he quickly passes it to Natasha, who’s eyes and mouth widen. She blinks, unsure of what to say.

 

“Let me meet your friend,” Clint says, standing up and walking towards Sam, who he see’s just a few yards away.

 

Natasha follows him, confused. He knows she’s confused, but she has to already be thinking of an answer. The logical answer is, he could have been watching her this whole time, maybe waiting for her to come along so that he had an excuse to leave.

 

“I’m not sure—“ she starts, and Clint hushes her.

 

“Watch,” he says confidently, “He’s gonna know somebody to set me up with.”

 

“Clint—“

 

They arrive, and Sam looks at Clint nervously.

 

“Ah—boyfriend?”

 

“No I’m the gay best friend.”

 

“Clint,” Natasha says in exasperation. “Can you stop that? What’s up with you?”

 

“Oh,” Sam responds, looking between Natasha and Clint.

 

Why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he thinking of Steve?

 

“Know anybody?” Clint says. “That’s single?”

 

Sam looks conflicted, still eyeing Natasha.

 

“A certain birthday boy maybe?” Clint pushes. “Blond, cute? Come on, Sam, think!”

 

“I don’t know you?”

 

“From Natasha,” Clint says offhandedly, and he begins to walk away, deciding to look for Steve himself. The conversation is taking too long, and who knows if someone else has already snagged Steve away.

 

He interweaves between people, keeping a sharp eye for a shirtless, painted blond. He catches sight of him, and in a quick hurry to get to him he somehow body slams into somebody else.

 

“Hey! Fucker!” Someone yells, and when his eyes adjust he can see an angry Bucky glaring at him.

 

“Bucky?”

 

“The fuck is wrong with you? Where the fuck is my phone?”

 

“I—“

 

Bucky bends down, going to his knees to search the ground. Clint gapes. It’s so weird seeing Bucky like this. Bucky has always had a harsh side to him, bitter and sarcastic, but not like this: snappy, angry, rude. He’s never seen Bucky this...upset.

 

He bends down with him, and finds his phone near his own feet.

 

“Here,” he mumbles, and Bucky looks at him sharply before taking it back.

 

“Watch where you’re going next time, jackass,” he hears Bucky say before the man is leaving him.

 

He hears himself say wait, but Bucky continues to leave. When he looks around, he realizes he lost Steve as well. Fuck.

 

He looks around for another ten minutes before he finds Steve talking to a cute girl, the tips of his ears red; he’s blushing.

 

Oh no, there’s no way Clint is going to let Steve out of his grasp this time.

 

“Hey,” he says, cutting into the conversation. The girl and Steve look at him with a bit of irritation. He clears his throat. “Ah, um. It’s—I heard it was someone’s birthday today. Any idea who it is?”

 

The girl looks at Steve, and Steve looks at her. Clint feels his chest burn. How are they already communicating through looks? Why is Steve acting like this? He knows Clint.

 

Or actually he doesn’t.

 

“It’s my birthday too,” he rushes out. “I heard—I mean, it’s rare to find—“

 

“It’s your birthday too?” Steve asks, his eyes widening. “That’s—it’s my birthday actually.”

 

“Twenty four?” Clint asks, and then he winces when Steve visibly goes back into his shell. The blond turns his head to look at the girl again, but she’s already gone.

 

Clint tries to fix it again.

 

“I’m twenty four too. I mean, you just look the age—“

 

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Look, I’ve gotta—I’ve gotta go talk to my friend. He’s going through a bad breakup right now and I’ve gotta—gotta be there for him, you know?”

 

“Oh.”

 

There’s no way Steve is trying to push him away. Why is Steve pushing him away? He hasn’t done anything wrong!

 

The star! He needs to get Steve alone to watch the star with him! Maybe that will help?

 

“Wait,” he says. How should he word this? Steve is kind enough to hesitate, but his expression shows just how much he wants to leave. “Your friend Sam sent me here, actually. Sorry for being weird.”

 

At that, Steve takes a moment to calm down. His features smoothen out, and then he self consciously rubs an elbow.

 

“Oh, that makes a lot of sense actually. I’m so sorry for—“

 

“No, it’s fine, just—“ he fidgets. “Want to watch the stars with me? For awhile?”

 

Steve looks up, searching. Clint knows he’s artistic; Clint knows that Steve appreciates doing mundane things like looking at the sky because that’s just how he is. That’s what Clint loves about it. Steve has to say yes.

 

And, probably because the universe actually is on Clint’s side, he reluctantly agrees.

 

They make small talk as they walk, and Steve slowly warms up to him. It’s weird seeing Steve so wary around him, it’s not something he used to.

 

This time, Clint decides not to stop by at a gas station. In fact, they don’t go that far off. They find their own section somewhere off on the field, with no one else around them. They lie down on the grass, side by side. Clint likes this rewrite better. It’s ten times more romantic.

 

They talk a little more deeply this time, Clint opening up first in order to get Steve to. They’re in the middle of talking about what Steve’s hopes for the future are when it happens.

 

“...and I’m suppose to be going to this charity benefit—“

 

Steve gasps, and sits up, his eyes trained on the shooting star. Clint smiles, glancing at it before keeping his gaze on Steve.

 

After the show is over, Steve whispers, “That was beautiful.”

 

“Did you make a wish?”

 

Steve looks at him, as if he forgot Clint was there.

 

“Oh. Yeah. You?”

 

Clint smiles, looking back up at the sky.

 

“Yup. I wished to meet the One.”

 

Steve blinks, looking confused. He looks closed off again, uncomfortable even. Clint frowns.

 

“Oh, hey, what’s wrong? Did I say something?”

 

“No,” Steve says, still frowning. “Just—I don’t know. Sorry. I’ve gotta go now. I’m sure my friends are waiting for me.”

 

He starts to get up, and Clint can’t have that. Steve is acting weird. Steve shouldn’t be acting like this. It isn’t what the universe wants. What is Clint doing wrong?

 

He grabs Steve’s hand, and Steve flinches, pulling it back.

 

“Steve, please—“

 

“There you are! We’ve been looking—“

 

It’s Sam’s voice, and he stops talking when he see’s Clint.

 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

 

“It’s fine, Sam,” Steve says, looking a little exhausted. “I just told him I’m leaving.” He looks at Clint apologetically. “Sorry, but I’m just not ready for a relationship yet. It was nice talking to you, though.”

 

“I didn’t send him over.” Sam glares at Clint. Suddenly Bucky is jogging over, and Clint has a very bad feeling about what’s about to happen.

 

“What do you mean? He said you sent him over.”

 

“You’re the creep that knew my name.”

 

Bucky finally comes over, but his eyes are mostly glued on his phone. When he glances up, he does a double take when he see’s Clint, and then he rolls his eyes.

 

Steve is backing away from Clint.

 

“And you knew my name too,” Steve says. “How did you know my name?” Steve pauses, thinking, and then his eyes widen. “You knew it was my birthday!”

 

Sam says something, but it goes over Clint’s head. Oh shit. This is bad. This is really bad. They can’t be thinking he’s a stalker. He knows them! He knows them...in the future.

 

When Sam starts to come closer, Clint runs. He leaves before something bad can happen.

 

When he reaches his car, he leaves as soon as he can. He forgets about Natasha, about their stuff on the grass. He forgets about the universe and its plans and he forgets that he’s in the past and he doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the future. What he thinks about is Steve, and his face, and how Steve has never looked at him with so much fear and disgust. This is all wrong. He can’t have Steve out of his life. He can’t have Steve look at him as though he’s shit at the bottom of his shoe.

 

He reaches home, and promptly forces himself to fall asleep. Maybe it’s dream. Maybe this is all a dream and he’ll wake up to Steve at least looking at him as a friend. He can deal with that, not this. Not Steve entirely out of his life. He loves Steve too much.

 

He passes out, close to tears.

 

~~~

 

His alarm goes off at six, and he groans, covering his ears. The sound is persistent, and eventually he grabs his phone and turns it off.

 

He gasps, sitting up as the memories rush in.

 

Memories? No. Dreams. His alarm is on. He didn’t set an alarm last night. In fact, he only recently started using an alarm. Just these past few months.

 

He looks at his phone, just to make sure. It’s his current phone. His current one!

 

When he turns it on, it shows the date. Perfect.

 

Wait.

 

January 12th 2018?

 

That’s today. That was yesterday actually. It’s the day of the engagement party.

 

But that’s okay. He can do this day over. His only problem is, it doesn’t make sense if yesterday didn’t happen. Maybe the universe realized it made a mistake, and...and then Clint can decide to make the wish again or not. Which he most definitely isn’t. He’s fine with how things are now, God, he just never wants Steve to look at him like that again.

 

He barely lasts half the day before he can’t handle it anymore and drives to Steve’s house. He can’t wait until tonight. He needs to see Steve now, just to remind him that they’re friends, that Steve loves him. Not some creep that he doesn’t know. Clint’s face burns in embarrassment. He’s never felt so ashamed in his life! He never wants to go back to the past ever again.

 

He knocks on the door, impatiently waiting for someone to answer. He smiles nervously when it does, but it quickly vanishes when it’s Tony’s confused face staring back at him.

 

“Uh, hey,” Tony says. “You lost or something?”

 

Clint rolls his eyes. “Very funny, Stark. I know I’m a bit early but...” he pauses. “I wanted to see if I could help out with the party?”

 

Tony blinks. “Oh. You know Steve?”

 

He opens the door wider, letting Clint in. Clint ignores him, not in the mood for Tony’s games. Tony isn’t always a jokester, but when he tries to be it sucks. Clint has been the only one to make Steve laugh on command to this day, which is something Clint is extremely proud and possessive of.

 

“Hey, babe, who’s at the door?”

 

It’s Steve’s voice. It’s Steve rounding the corner to look at Clint. Yes, finally, just one happy smile and that’s all he needs to feel better.

 

Suddenly Steve is frowning, and he’s looking at Clint with wide eyes.

 

“What the? Clint? What’re you...” Steve looks at Tony, saying something with his face. Clint’s tempted to look behind him, but he’s so shocked he can’t move.

 

What is happening? Steve doesn’t greet him like this. Ever.

 

“Hey Steve,” he says, trying for casual. “I know I’m a bit early but...”

 

“How did you...? I’m sorry Clint but you weren’t,” Steve winces, having a hard time spitting the word out. “Ah, invited.”

 

“What?”

 

“Steve,” Tony says, and then he’s walking past Clint to stand next to his fiancé. “Who is this, then?”

 

“The guy,” Steve hisses. Clint frowns, and so does Tony.

 

“What guy?”

 

“The guy,” Steve stresses.

 

“Holy shit,” Tony suddenly says with a laugh. “The stalker guy? The creep? Fuck, man, glad to finally meet you. I’ve never met anyone more obsessed with Steve than me.”

 

“Tony,” Steve says, scandalized.

 

What the fuck are they talking about? Is this some prank? Another dream? It doesn’t make any sense unless—

 

Unless he went back in time, changed the past, and affected the future.

 

Clint is a fucking creep in Steve’s eyes now. Great. Fuck. Oh no. Oh no no no.

 

“Okay, as fun as calling the police would be I’d say maybe it’s time you go? Without any trouble this time?”

 

“I don’t...” Clint can’t think. What’s going on? What’s wrong? Why can’t he think? Why is Steve looking at him like that? Why is Tony looking at him? Why are they coming closer?

 

“Clint?” Steve asks, but he doesn’t look worried for Clint. He doesn’t care about Clint. This isn’t right. None of this is right or makes sense and none of this should have happened this isn’t—

 

He runs.

 

~~~

 

He’s in his front yard yelling at the sky. He knows he looks crazy, but what gives? He’s already crazy in this future! Or present, fuck it, Clint is going insane.

 

“Fuck you!” He yells for he sixth time. “It’s all your fucking fault!”

 

He groans, falling to his knees. How can he fix this? He can’t live like this. He just can’t. Why is he here? Go back, just go back to normal, please.

 

Clint freezes, his eyebrows raising.

 

Wait. The star. The wish.

 

He can go back. He can go back and put everything back to normal.

 

Or...

 

He smiles. This time he’ll do it right.

 

Now all he’s gotta do is wait for the star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, assuming that wasn’t mind numbingly boring, please tell me your thoughts! How do you think Clint will fix this?? How many times should he go back in time?? Why is Clint such a weirdo ??? 
> 
> And if any of y’all are excited for Bucky, there’s a lot more of him next! 
> 
> Okay, please comment and give kudos if you liked the chapter!! Next chappie up tomorrow :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this chapter is enjoyable!!

III.

 

He wakes up with a start, and he quickly looks for his phone.

 

He grins when he see’s it’s the old one.

 

Yes. Yes. This is great. He went back in time again. He can fix this. The universe gave him a second chance. He wasn’t thinking right last time, but this time he’s got it. He can make Steve like him this time. Perhaps he won’t wake up in the future once he does it right. Maybe he’ll wake up tomorrow, still in the past, and prevent Steve from ever meeting Tony.

 

This day is already starting out great.

 

The whole day he thinks of how he’s going to woo Steve. The sad thing is, he can’t exactly remember how everything went down the first time he met Steve for real, but it should all work out if he has the gist of it. He won’t force it like last time.

 

He’s waiting for the clock to hit ten again later that day, this time patiently waiting for Natasha to ask him for another beer. The time comes soon enough, and when there’s a tap on his shoulder he turns with a small smile.

 

“Hey, can you hand me another beer?”

 

He does so, and as he passes it to her he asks, “Think there’s anybody I can meet there?”

 

She shakes her head. “I don’t think any of them are interested.”

 

Clint waits for her to change her mind.

 

She’s dragging him over to Clint not too long after, and Clint takes that moment to appreciate how quickly he fixed his mistakes. He was too eager last time, and when he really thinks about it he was acting very freakishly. He knew too much when he shouldn’t have known anything at all.

 

He lets Sam eye him, and introduces himself.

 

“Hey, I’m Clint. Friend of Natasha’s,” he says, and at that Sam seems to calm a little. He takes Clint’s hand, giving it a firm shake.

 

Natasha looks pleasantly surprised, and Clint inwardly smiles.

 

This time he and Sam make small talk, and before he knows it Sam is saying he knows someone and is leading him away. He isn’t surprised when Sam stops in front of Bucky, and asks if he’s seen Steve.

 

“No.”

 

Bucky barely looks up from his phone. Clint cocks his head to the side, suddenly intrigued. Why has Bucky always been on his phone so far, and so snappy? There’s no reason for it.

 

“Well, can you take him to Steve? I think they’d work out.”

 

Bucky finally looks up, his eyebrows raised.

 

“Still trying to play Cupid, huh? Pathetic.”

 

“What’s wrong with Cupid?” Clint can’t help but ask. He tries not to stutter when they both stare at him. “He’s romantic. And obviously talented.”

 

“Wow,” Bucky says dryly. “You really know how to pick ‘em, Sam.”

 

“I...” Sam hesitates. “Just go, will you? Thanks.”

 

“Oh sure,” Buck says after him. “Just leave me to do everything! Because that’s what you always do, asshole!” He sighs, glaring at Clint. “Come on, Cupid. Who knows where this birthday boy’s gone.”

 

Attempting a small conversation with Bucky is useless, and he soon figures that out when Bucky barely responds to him. He tells himself that it’s fine though, and he isn’t here for Bucky anyway. It still hurts, weirdly enough.

 

He probably see’s Steve before Bucky does, but in order not to seem creepy he waits for Bucky to notice and when he does he does the quickest introduction in the world, and is off in a flash.

 

Steve blinks in surprise and then laughs.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch any of that. Did you?”

 

Clint shrugs, smiling. Steve isn’t weirded out by him. Steve looks happy, carefree, which is exactly how he should be feeling around Clint.

 

“He said my name was Clint, and that Sam wanted you to meet me.”

 

“Oh really?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow. Is he flirting? Oh man, please be flirting.

 

Okay. Calm down. Be the nice guy. Clint can’t have Steve freak out on him again.

 

“Yeah. Do...you agree?”

 

Okay. He’s going for shy. Steve likes nice, shy guys right? He has to. It’d fit perfectly with Steve.

 

“That we should meet? I think we already have.”

 

Oh, dang it. Clint feels his cheeks heat up, and Steve chuckles, shaking his shoulder.

 

“I’m just messing with you. Clint, was it?”

 

The rest of the night goes smoothly in Clint’s eyes. He doesn’t try to pull Steve away from his friends, he doesn’t talk about things he shouldn’t know, and by the end of the night Steve is smiling and laughing like he actually might want to date Clint.

 

Maybe this is how it should have gone. Clint, being the sweet, nice guy. Yeah. That sounds just right.

 

Everything is reaffirmed when Steve gives him a kiss on the cheek before they part, and when he leaves he hears the start of, “Yeah, he’s pretty cute.” when he leaves Steve with Sam.

 

He goes to bed satisfied, knowing that they should be dating in the future. He can feel it in his bones.

 

~~~

 

He wakes up to a blaring alarm. It isn’t the one he’s used to. This one is loud and obnoxious, and when he reaches for his phone, he doesn’t find it. He’s forced to lift his head and look for it, and when he does find it he realizes that it’s all the way across his room.

 

Wow. He purposely did this so that he can wake up. How rude of him!

 

He stomps over and turns it off, and right away there are three remind messages from himself.

 

Remind: Get up! Get up! Today is a special day :D

 

Remind: Remember to be at Steve’s house by ten for the engagement party!

 

Remind: oh and remember to pick up Steve’s cake for him! He’s already got a lot on his plate!

 

Clint’s heart skips a beat. Oh dear lord. Holy fuck.

 

Are they engaged? Oh sweet Jesus he was not expecting this.

 

He breaks out into a happy dance.

 

Finally!

 

~~~

 

He has the cake with him and is knocking at Steve’s door eagerly. What should he do when Steve opens the door? Kiss him? Oh, is Clint even ready for that? Maybe he’ll wait for Steve to kiss him first. Steve is like that. Since he loves Clint he’ll probably kiss Clint first. He almost always kisses Tony first, at least.

 

When the door opens, Steve is already smiling at him.

 

“Oh, thanks Clint, you’ve been such a great help. Come in, come in, Bucky’s also here helping, which I guess I can thank you for too, huh?”

 

Clint frowns, confused. Steve still doesn’t kiss him. In fact, he’s already gone, expecting Clint to follow him. He does, and he startles when he see’s Tony arrive, Steve quickly giving him a peck.

 

“What the—?” He looks around, as if the answer is written somewhere on the walls.

 

“Woah,” someone says from behind him, and he turns (with the damn cake in his hands meant for Tony and Steve, not him and Steve fucking hell) to see Bucky. He looks smug. “For once you’re not here five minutes early. That good boy exterior finally cracking?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Clint asks, annoyed. He walks past Bucky, on his way to the kitchen because according to the universe Steve will always own the same damn house.

 

He sets the cake down, rubbing his head. He here’s Bucky’s hesitant footsteps from behind him.

 

“Ah, you okay, Clint? Need some water or...?”

 

“Just shut up.”

 

This is all wrong, again. What is Clint doing wrong? Why can’t he get it right still?

 

“Damn, fine. I’ll stop pretending I care.”

 

“What am I doing wrong?” Clint asks Bucky. He turns, throwing his hands up. “What is it? Is the universe just torturing me?”

 

“Hey, calm down—“

 

“No! I’ve tried twice so far and nothing’s worked.” He groans, suddenly realizing that Bucky actually has no clue what Clint is talking about. Well, there’s nothing wrong with confessing how he feels. He’ll just start over again tomorrow. “I should be with Steve. Not Tony.”

 

Clint doesn’t care if they heard. He hopes maybe they do, and maybe Steve will realize he likes Clint too and they can ride off into the sunset together.

 

“Kind of rude to say at someone’s engagement party,” Bucky says casually, walking past him towards a cupboard. He grabs two glasses.

 

“You aren’t surprised? Mad?”

 

Bucky snorts. “Clint, everyone knows how you feel about Steve. Steve knows how you feel about Steve, he’s just too nice to admit it. You follow him around like a lost puppy.” Bucky fills the cups with ice. “And you look at him like he’s some god.” He adds some water, and then hands a glass to Clint, his eyes sincere when he ends with, “And as nice as you are, Clint, you’re just not Steve’s type.”

 

Clint takes the glass, confused. “I’m not? How do you know?”

 

Bucky finishes swallowing, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Clint—you and Tony are polar opposites. You...come off as needy, clingy, too eager to please. You...don’t have all that much personality in you. And Tony, he’s an alpha male. He walks in and all eyes are on him right away. He’s cocky, arrogant—I mean, you get it. He turns Steve on.”

 

Clint lets it all sink in, and perhaps Bucky is right. Maybe that’s what Clint has been missing all along. He needs to reel in Steve from day one to have him. He needs to excite Steve, like no one has before.

 

“You...” Clint grins, trailing off, his thoughts running a mile a minute as he tries to put together his plans.

 

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I think it’s about time someone was honest—“

 

“You genius! You amazing, wonderful person, thank you!”

 

He leans in, giving Bucky a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving.

 

“Ah—Clint? Where’re you going?”

 

~~~

 

He’s got this. He’s dressed in his most bad boy, asshole attire. Natasha has been giving him looks, but she hasn’t said anything yet. She probably knows he’s trying to impress somebody, but luckily she has no idea who.

 

His plan is set in motion the moment Natasha says she needs to go to the bathroom. This is the moment she doesn’t come back until she asks for a beer. Too bad, she’s going to have to get it herself, because Clint’s got a plan of his own.

 

He waits two, three seconds and then he grabs his own beer, opening it and taking a sip before heading towards Steve’s group. He walks around, hoping to catch a glimpse of his half naked self. He does, and then he sets his plan into action.

 

He heavily bumps into him, spilling over half of his beer onto Steve’s chest.

 

Clint gasps, and Steve is looking down at himself in dismay. Still, the cutie attempts to apologize.

 

“Oh, sorry—“

 

“You spilled my beer!” Clint says, hoping to come off as annoyed. Steve looks at him in shock, and then glares.

 

“Excuse me? You bumped into me!”

 

“Well you owe me, because that was my last one!”

 

“I don’t owe you anything,” Steve replies with a huff. He wipes at his chest, grimacing. He isn’t so red, white and blue anymore.

 

“Fine. What about you get me a beer, and I’ll try not to make fun of your over the top American spirit while you do so. Deal?”

 

“Look, asshole, I’m not in the mood for—“

 

“Does it look like I care? God, people don’t know anything about respect these days.”

 

“Respect?” Steve splutters. Clint grins, which makes Steve even more angry. “You’re the one aggravating me. I suggest you move along before you really piss me off.”

 

“What’s wrong, babe? Somebody for once isn’t in the mood for your bullshit?”

 

“My bullshit? I—“ he pauses, then shakes his head. “You don’t even know me.”

 

“So you’re saying no one has ever sucked up to those beautiful eyes?”

 

Steve freezes. Clint interrupts him when he tries to answer.

 

“Or those amazing abs? That incredibly soft looking hair?”

 

“I...” Steve flushes.

 

Clint’s heart soars. But he can’t stop. He needs to stay in character.

 

“No? By the way, where’s my beer?”

 

Right away Steve snaps back, but Clint can tell he’s still knocked off balance.

 

“I told you I’m not getting you a beer.”

 

“Then I guess a kiss would have to suffice. Fair enough?”

 

He doesn’t let Steve answer, and with his heart hammering against his chest, he leans in for a kiss. Steve kisses him back immediately. Already Clint is moaning and is half hard, but he can’t scare Steve away. Still, he never imagined kissing him would feel this good. He’s so warm and solid against Clint.

 

Clint pulls away. He hates it but he has to, because if he doesn’t then Steve will know just how excited Clint already is and that’s gross. He just met Steve, so there’s no reason for him to be this excited.

 

“We’re good?”

 

Steve’s eyes are still closed, and when he blinks them open he shakes his head.

 

“I—I think I owe you a beer.”

 

Clint’s heart stutters, and he struggles to keep his composure.

 

“Hm,” he hums, trying hard not to jump on his feet. “Maybe we can get to that later?”

 

Steve just nods, dragging him into another kiss.

 

It isn’t too heady, which he tries to make it but Steve isn’t letting him. Every time he nibbles on his lip or tries to slip his tongue in Steve lightly pushes him away, controlling the kiss by keeping it simple. It still drives Clint wild, but it isn’t enough.

 

Steve pulls away fully after awhile, and he keeps Clint at an arms distance.

 

“We should—do you wanna meet up sometime?” Steve asks, looking a bit hopeful. Clint chooses his words carefully.

 

“Sure. What’s your number?”

 

They exchange numbers, and then Steve is telling him that they should meet up soon, and automatically Clint thinks of the charity benefit Steve is supposed to be at on the sixth.

 

“What about the sixth? Noon?”

 

He holds his breath as he watches Steve seem internally conflicted. He then hesitantly nods.

 

“Sure, I’ve gotta thing but—why not?”

 

He pushes away the shame, and the guilt, at pulling Steve away from Tony’s life—but it’s nothing Steve and Tony can’t handle. He thinks.

 

~~~

 

He wakes up too hot, the room stuffy. He groans, throwing the sheets off of him.

 

There’s another groan to his left, and he freezes when he realizes that he’s not alone.

 

“Can you quit moving? I’ve got a busy day today.”

 

That’s—

 

That’s Steve’s voice. That’s Steve’s hot as fuck morning voice.

 

That’s also Steve’s irritated voice. Why is he irritated?

 

He stays as still as possible, his heart racing. Right. He’s in bed, with Steve, and from what he can tell, he’s in Steve’s room. In bed with Steve in his room. He then looks down and realizes he’s naked.

 

He’s naked, in bed with Steve, in Steve’s room.

 

That means...

 

Clint smiles, relieved. They’re finally dating. He did it right for once, thank God. He can stop going back in time now and get a damn rest.

 

Now he can touch Steve, so he rolls over and throws an arm over him. He snuggles, feeling content. Suddenly, however, Steve is lightly elbowing him.

 

“Hey, stop, it’s too hot.”

 

Clint hums, then leans in to kiss Steve’s shoulder.

 

“Then why don’t you take these blankets off, hm?”

 

He starts to pull the blanket away, and this time Steve sighs, throwing everything off and getting up.

 

“Hey, Steve, where—“

 

“I’m not in the mood. We did enough last night.”

 

So, he was right then.

 

“We—we had sex?”

 

Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn’t answer. He has his underwear on, which Clint just noticed. Why is he naked and not Steve?

 

“Why don’t we do it right now?”

 

Steve actually snorts at that, then regains his composure as he grabs some clothes from his closet.

 

“I told you I’m not in the mood.”

 

“Is it bad?” Clint asks, furrowing his brows. Please don’t be bad.

 

“I’m not gonna feed your already ginormous ego. Go look for somebody else to praise you.”

 

He goes inside his bathroom, and not too long after the shower is on. Clint lies back down, wondering, not for the first time, what the hell is happening.

 

 

He’s changed into, presumably, last nights clothes by the time Steve gets out, looking and smelling great. Clint suddenly wishes he got to see him entirely naked. How does he look with a hard cock? Dripping and cherry red?

 

“What are you still doing here?” Steve asks, looking surprised to see Clint. Sure, it’s been an hour but he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. He decides to tell that to Steve.

 

The man has the audacity to scoff at that.

 

“Don’t start again, Clint. We’ve gone over this plenty of times—we’re not getting back together, and that’s final.”

 

“Seriously?” Clint asks, genuinely surprised. How can they fuck it up? How can they date and break up, yet still fuck on the side? Well, at least that shows how good the sex has to be.

 

“I mean it this time,” Steve says, his tone final. “And don’t—I know what you’re thinking, alright, I can see it on your face and just because I said this a million times before doesn’t mean I’m less serious. So drop it.”

 

God, so he’s the asshole ex and occasional fuck buddy.That’s how his life is now? That’s who he’s become? This isn’t fair!

 

Steve starts to tie his shoes, and Clint perks.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Steve sighs, pulling at his laces.

 

“I already told you. Reach First charity gala.”

 

“What, so you’re going there and setting up?”

 

Steve grunts, tying his other shoe. “Essentially, yes. Now I’ve gotta go. You can let yourself out, I guess.”

 

“No—“ he starts to follow Steve out the door, patting his own pockets to make sure he has his phone and keys. “I’ll go with. I’ll help out.”

 

Steve pauses, raising an eyebrow. “You want to...help out? You’re not gonna get paid.”

 

Clint shrugs. “So? Let me come. Think of the children.”

 

Steve’s face twists irritably. “It’s for animals.”

 

“Even better.”

 

Steve has a hard frown on his face, but eventually he gives in, telling Clint that he isn’t allowed to say anything other than nice for the whole day. It isn’t going to be hard, he knows that, but he just can’t believe the type of person Steve thinks he is. He really went full asshole, didn’t he?

 

 

 

They leave in their separate vehicles, Clint following him with his baby who still happens to be here (his beautiful Ford Ranger) and the whole time Clint is following Steve he’s afraid Steve will somehow try to ditch him. However, when they arrive, they’re immediately greeted by Bucky and Sam, and Clint know they’re at the right place.

 

Bucky and Sam look surprised to see him. Sam doesn’t talk to him, walking further ahead with Steve as they have their own conversation. Bucky stays with Clint to annoy him, he’s sure of it.

 

“You really think you’re gonna win Steve back, don’tcha?”

 

Bucky’s laughing at him, and all Clint can do is glare. There’s nothing he can say to that.

 

“I’m not sorry to say this buddy but you really fucked up this time. I can’t believe you really think you can get him back again.”

 

“Well what am I doing wrong, huh?” Clint asks, frustrated. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing wrong.” He tells himself.

 

“Dude,” Bucky says, looking confused as they walk inside, “you are the definition of loser. You don’t have a steady job, you don’t have any friends, you’ve got a jackass personality and, on top of all that, you smell weird. That’s what’s wrong.”

 

“I do?” He asks, quickly lifting an arm, and Bucky laughs at him.

 

“Probably. You look like you smell weird.”

 

“Hey!” He says, because now Bucky is walking away from him and he has no one else to talk to. He also doesn’t know what he’s suppose to be doing. Shit.

 

He follows after him, and when he catches him, he see’s the last thing he wanted to see on earth: Steve and Tony, together, smiling at each other like they’re the only ones in the world.

 

How the fuck...?

 

He tugs at Bucky’s arm.

 

“What the fuck is he doing here!” He hisses, and Bucky scowls, pulling his arm back.

 

“Who? Stark? He’s the one hosting this, dimwit.”

 

“How the fuck do they know each other?”

 

Bucky shrugs, looking annoyed. “I don’t know. Haven’t you two met already?”

 

At that moment Tony looks over at Clint, and he does a quick double take, and then Steve is also looking back, turning red. Clint takes that moment to walk over.

 

Steve is his. He can’t believe Tony is still somehow in Steve’s life, this isn’t right. Once he’s close enough, he steps right up against Steve.

 

Tony’s smiling at him, but Clint can easily tell it’s fake.

 

“Oh, hey, Clint,” Tony says. “Long time no see.”

 

Clint doesn’t respond. Tony and Steve have those weird eye conversations they usually have (which isn’t fair because what the fuck?) and suddenly Steve is speaking.

 

“He wanted to come and help. Told him he won’t get paid but, guess he’s got a change of heart.”

 

Tony hums, getting straight to the point. “So, I’m guessing the off and on relationship is currently on again?”

 

“You bet,” Clint says, just as Steve says no. He turns to frown at the man.

 

“No,” Steve repeats, this time looking Clint in the eye. “No, not getting back together at all, actually. We decided it’d be best if we split our ways.”

 

“No we didn’t.”

 

“Oh, sorry,” Tony says. He looks genuinely indifferent, but Clint knows in his bones that he’s relieved. There’s no way Tony can look that uncaring, just no way.

 

“What about you? How’s...Erica?” Steve asks, and he’s going for nonchalant too! Who do these guys think they’re kidding? No one!

 

“Christine,” Tony corrects, and then he shakes his head. “But we didn’t work out either. Guess I still gotta keep an eye out for the One.”

 

Clint actually feels the way Steve brightens, and then he can see it when he turns his head. It makes him sick.

 

“Me too,” Steve says softly, and great, how the fuck are they able to have a ‘moment’ with Clint right there?

 

He rudely clears his throat. “Aren’t we supposed to be setting up?”

 

Tony blinks, startling. “Oh, right, yeah of course. Thanks Clint. I’ll, uh, talk to you later, Steve.”

 

“You too, Tony.”

 

Fucking hell. Tony and his rich suits and attractive self. Tony and his stupid goatee and perfectly gelled hair. Tony and his terrible acting skills and his persistence on being part of Steve’s life.

 

Stupid Steve for loving someone like Tony.

 

They spend the next few hours setting up, going over how the day is going to go and then taking a break to eat a late lunch. He’s sat next to Bucky, at first the table being filled with them, Sam and Steve, but then they both ran off to Tony’s group. He doesn’t know why Bucky is staying around.

 

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” Bucky asks after a full five minutes of silence.

 

Instead of arguing, Clint nods.

 

“I know. Is that why I’m not good enough for Steve?”

 

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get a life,” Bucky says, his mouth stuffed with his sandwich.

 

“What does Tony have that I don’t, huh? I’ve got the ego, the-the cockiness. I’m self assured...I think. What does he have that I don’t?”

 

“A career,” Bucky immediately says. “Charisma. Charm. The list can probably go on forever.”

 

Clint narrows his eyes at Bucky, who’s currently eating his sandwich as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. Which he probably doesn’t.

 

“Sometimes I think you’re the one with the crush on Tony.”

 

Bucky snorts, and Clint’s surprised the sandwich didn’t go up his nose.

 

“Oh trust me, Tony is not my type. He is definitely Steve’s type though, and I know Steve’s type. Successful, independent, fierce attitude. Always draws Steve in, like a moth.”

 

“A career...,” Clint starts, trailing off, his mind working. A career. A...real job, like Natasha’s. Like...Voyage Industries.

 

Perfect.

 

“Bucky,” he says proudly, and Bucky turns to look at him, his eyes wide with fear and uncertainty, and his mouth full of sandwich. “You are so perfect. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

“Ah, what?” He asks, bread crumbs falling out of his mouth. Clint just smiles, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek before digging in and eating his own sandwich.

 

Bucky turns a light pink, and then he’s vigorously shaking his head.

 

“Oh, no, don’t think that you can butter me up. I’m not interested, Barton.”

 

“That’s fine, Barnes, because my eyes are only on Steve.”

 

 

 

They all are changed into white clothing, Clint realizing that he’d be a waiter for the evening, along with Bucky, Steve and Sam. Tony gets to sit and eat with the rest of the guests, like the King he is of course. Sometimes Tony makes Clint’s blood boil by just existing.

 

It’s a very nice hotel that they happen to be at, and there’s live music and good food. Or it smells good, Clint hasn’t had a taste yet.

 

He goes in and out, serving plates and listening in on bits and pieces of random conversations. He keeps an eye on Steve, and he grows annoyed when he realizes that Steve keeps going to Tony’s table, and only the tables around Tony’s table. They are constantly talking, and Clint has half the mind to stomp over there and tell them to quit chatting and for Steve to do what he came here to do.

 

And maybe he was about to do it, because suddenly someone has their hand on his arm, and he didn’t realize he was walking away until he was suddenly pulled back.

 

“Woah there cowboy, let Stevie be, will ya? You don’t wanna cause a scene here. This isn’t about you guys.”

 

He turns, pulling his arm away from Bucky.

 

“They’re the ones causing a scene!” He hisses. “Look at them! They’re—they’re—“

 

“Friends,” Bucky finishes for him. “And friends talk to each other.”

 

“They’re flirting. They have to be flirting. They haven’t stopped smiling since this thing started.”

 

“You...are so pathetic.”

 

“Again? Seriously?” He glares. Why the hell is Bucky so mean?

 

“Don’t look at me like that. You know you’re pathetic,” Bucky says, huffing. “Look at you right now. Do you think this is the type of guy Steve would want anyway? Constantly jealous, possessive? Calm down Clint, it’s not the end of the damn world.”

 

“Why are you always so mean to me?” Clint can’t help but ask. He regrets it the moment Bucky laughs at him.

 

“Mean? I prefer the term brutally honest.”

 

And...he’s got a point. Bucky’s always got a point.

 

He decides not to respond, getting back to work. He busies himself so that the hours can go by faster. Everything feels so slow these days.

 

Then suddenly dinner is over and there’s dancing. People are getting up, walking around, mingling, and of course he has to go and look for Steve.

 

But to his horror, he watches as Tony asks for his hand, and they start dancing along to the music. Steve’s blushing, letting a grinning Tony lead the way. It’s gross. It’s gross and inappropriate and the last thing Clint wanted to see.

 

“Aw well aren’t they a sight.”

 

“Not now, Bucky,” He all but growls, getting ready to stomp right over.

 

“Remember what I said about not making a scene?”

 

“They’re—!” He stops, sighing. The fight in him leaves as fast as it came. He’s so tired having to fight for Steve. It’s been days, these types of things can exhaust a man. “They’re dancing,” he finishes weakly.

 

After a moments pause, Bucky grabs his hand and leads him to the floor, muttering, “Come on, cry baby.”

 

“No,” Clint says, but he lets Bucky drag him. “What are you doing?”

 

“We’re gonna dance,” Bucky says. “And maybe this will show you that dancing with someone isn’t all that serious.”

 

They stop, and Bucky turns to him fully. Clint jumps when he realizes what’s happening.

 

“Are you...trying to comfort me?”

 

Bucky narrows his eyes, bringing his hands to Clint’s hips and swaying.

 

“Say that again and I’m leaving.”

 

“But why?” Clint can’t help but ask. “I thought you hated me.”

 

Clint throws his hands onto the brunets shoulders, swaying along with him. Bucky makes a face.

 

“You are so dramatic. Do you ever tire yourself out?”

 

“You’re deflecting.”

 

Bucky huffs, looking around.

 

“I don’t know. I guess I feel bad for you.”

 

“You feel bad for me? Are you even capable—“ he stops himself when Bucky gives him an unamused look. “Fine. But why?”

 

“Because your pathetic, and people pity pathetic things.”

 

“Thanks,” Clint says dryly. “You really know how to lift my spirits.”

 

Bucky smiles brightly. “Anytime, sweet-cheeks.”

 

It’s calming, bickering with Bucky as they dance. Clint ends up talking most of the time, probably boring Bucky out of his mind, but he stays, and he sways, and it’s enough for Clint to feel less uptight.

 

When the song is over, Bucky stops.

 

“You see? Not that serious.”

 

The warmth of his hands are gone, and they’re standing a good three feet apart. Clint suddenly wants to say something, anything to keep the conversation going, to make Bucky stay.

 

“How come I never see you with anyone?”

 

Bucky frowns. “What do you mean?”

 

Clint blinks. Should he walk into this? Why not, it’s not like Bucky will know by tomorrow. In fact, this Bucky won’t know him at all tomorrow. Why does it saddens him?

 

And maybe it’s different in this future, maybe not, but he’s never seen Bucky in any type of relationship. Back in his present, the real present time, Bucky isn’t with anyone. Hasn’t had a significant other basically the whole time Clint has known him.

 

“With...a girlfriend. You know. Or anyone. I’ve never seen you date anyone.”

 

Bucky’s face is perfectly blank. “You don’t know me.”

 

“But I do. How come you’re not dating anyone?”

 

At that Bucky rolls his eyes, and he starts to walk away.

 

“I told you I’m not interested.”

 

“And neither am I!” He says, walking after him. “But it just—you’re a pretty neat guy. And you aren’t, uh, that ugly I guess.”

 

“Glad to know you think I’m not that ugly.”

 

“I’m serious. I think—“

 

“I don’t care what you think,” Bucky says, his voice hardened. He turns around once they’re in a more private area, and Clint’s eyes widen. “Okay? I don’t care what anyone thinks. I don’t need anyone. The last thing I wanna do is get used again by some dumb asshole who doesn’t really give a fuck about me. Which sounds a lot like someone I already fucking know.”

 

“Again?” Clint asks, his train of thought stuck on that one word. Bucky’s face clears, his mouth open.

 

“Just...leave me alone. I don’t know why I ever bother talking to you. Jesus, it always ends up with some useless argument.”

 

“You like me, that’s why.”

 

“I don’t like you,” Bucky immediately replies, his voice cold.

 

And even if Clint doesn’t know Bucky all that well, he can tell when someone is putting up a front, and Bucky is putting up one helluva front.

 

But he doesn’t want to start another argument, so he just grins. Bucky’s exterior breaks a little at that, because he’s so obviously trying to hide a smile.

 

“Are we done now?” Bucky asks. He looks somewhere behind Clint, and before Clint can answer he says, “Oh look, looks like we grabbed some attention. Hope you’re happy now.”

 

He turns around, and there’s Steve marching after them, Tony warily tagging along. Why does Steve look irritated? God, so many emotions that Clint rarely ever see’s, let alone ever targeted at him, are so often in these futures. He hates them.

 

“What are you two doing?” Steve snaps once he’s close enough.

 

Bucky leans against the wall, folding his arms. “Calm down, cupcake. We were just having a conversation.”

 

“And dancing? Bucky, out of everyone in the world—“

 

“Hey,” Bucky snaps. “We were dancing because of you. And why the hell do you care? I thought you wanted nothing to do with him.”

 

“I don’t,” Steve insists, and he looks back at Tony, who’s still here, watching the scene unfold. “I don’t.”

 

Tony catches his eye, and then he shakes his head. “Look, I’m gonna go. I hope this all works out.”

 

“Wait—“

 

Tony leaves, and Clint can’t help but feel a little smug. The feeling is gone when Steve looks at both of them, seething.

 

“I’m don’t care. I just think that the last person you need right now is Clint.”

 

“I’m not interested in him!”

 

“I’m right here,” Clint says, hoping to remind them.

 

“Shut up!” They say at the same time.

 

“Hey, I’m just...reminding,” he finishes meekly.

 

“I just thought that you’d be a bit smarter about this,” Steve says, barreling on. “After Logan? He’s literally the blond version of him.”

 

“Don’t compare them,” Bucky says with a growl, unfolding his arms and standing straight. “Just leave us alone, Steve.”

 

They stand, glaring at each other, and weirdly enough it makes Clint feel bad. He doesn’t want to make them fight. They’re childhood friends, together through thick and thin, and if something so small like this starts a fight? Clint doesn’t want that to happen.

 

“I’ll go,” he says hastily, and both the men look at him in surprise. “I’m just gonna—I’ll change. But just know that I was the one following Bucky around. He really wants nothing to do with me.”

 

They both frown, letting Clint leave.

 

When Clint makes it home, he keeps in mind about the career thing Bucky said. He’ll have to apply for a job when he goes back, which he’s sure Natasha will help him with, because she’s just that amazing. He finds that he’s starting to miss her.

 

He ignores the way his mind drifts off to Bucky when he’s bored. He doesn’t understand why so far Bucky has always been there, the only one willing to talk to Clint.

 

He purposely doesn’t focus on it for long, watching TV until it’s around nine and then looking outside, waiting for the shooting star to come around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys all think? Please comment and kudo if you liked the chapter!! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I went back and added a few hundred words because I felt it wasn’t finished. So sorry if there’s any mistakes here because I was in a hurry to publish!! Hope y’all can still enjoy

IV.

 

When he wakes up, he decides to stay in bed for awhile, thinking about how the days have been. He can’t afford to start getting tired. He needs to be at his best, woo Steve Rogers and then stop going back in time. But why does he feel so off? Why does he feel like something is wrong? That he isn’t doing what the universe wants?

 

No. He needs himself back in the game. He doesn’t know if he even has unlimited “go back” cards, and his number is probably dwindling down and getting closer and closer to zero the more he messes up, and if he ends up stuck in a future that sucks ass, he just might kill himself.

 

He shivers, getting up. Right. Getting his head back in the game. He can do this. One last time. This will be the last time, he knows it.

 

Steve. Steve. Steve. Just remember that this is for him.

 

 

 

 

“Natasha,” he says, a half hour later, going up to her cubicle and slamming his hands on her desk. She jumps, and quickly has a stapler aimed at his head. He backs up, hands held up in surrender while Natasha puts her weapon down.

 

“What the hell, Clint, you can’t just do that—“

 

“I want my job back,” he says, and right away Natasha hushes, surprised. After a beat she leans back in her chair.

 

“You do? You’re completely serious?”

 

Clint nods, and Natasha finally grins.

 

“Good job, Clint. I knew you’d come around. Let me talk to O’Donald. I’m sure I can get him to at least consider you when you apply.”

 

“Thank you so much Natasha,” he says, leaning in and giving her a hug.

 

Finally it’s going to work out, there’s no doubt in his mind.

 

 

He meets Steve again, for the first time, and Clint tries to pull him in by first asking what Steve does for a living. Clint tells him he works at Voyage Industries, and that he’s aiming for Vice President one of these days. He doesn’t actually mean it, he just wants Steve to know that he’s working hard for a good career, and unsurprisingly Steve is drawn in.

 

“Oh really?” He asks, his eyebrows raised. “Ambitious. I like that.”

 

“Me too, surprisingly.”

 

Steve laughs, and then he has a glint in his eye, looking at Clint skeptically. “Hey, do you wanna talk somewhere more private? Maybe get to know each other better?”

 

“That’s,” he takes a breath. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

 

~~~

 

Someone is whispering in his ear. He makes a small noise, moving away from the sound, but then someone is rubbing his stomach, persistently talking. He furrows his brows, remembering that he should be in bed alone.

 

He blinks his eyes open, and his vision is blurred as someone comes closer, and then someone is giving him a small peck.

 

“Hng?” Clint hums. The person pulls away, and then he can see their face clearly.

 

It’s Steve, smiling softly at him. Steve leans in again, giving Clint two more firm pecks before climbing on top of him, licking around his neck. Clint gasps, his dick immediately jumping to attention.

 

“Today is gonna be a good day,” Steve whispers, trailing kisses down Clint’s chest. Clint is breathing hard, probably way too hard, close to hyperventilating. But this is just so new. And probably so normal for them but he just doesn’t know. Doesn’t remember.

 

“You’re not going to work today,” Steve mumbles, and then his eyes snap back up to meet Clint’s. He doesn’t know what to do, or say, because Steve is looking at him expectantly, but how is he supposed to think coherently with his face right next to his dick?

 

“Nah, right. No work.”

 

Steve grins, and then delicately licks Clint’s cock. He jumps, and then he thinks about why he’s naked. God, they really do this regularly, don’t they? It makes his cock bob as he thinks about it.

 

Pleasure is pooling at the bottom of his stomach. He groans, throwing his head back as Steve finally takes his dick into his mouth.

 

He lowers his eyes to see Steve swallowing him down. Steve’s face is in between his legs, and Steve’s mouth is on his cock.

 

Fuck.

 

He moans, watching as Steve pops off and jerks him off. It sends another wave of pleasure throughout his body.

 

“Not so loud,” Steve whispers, “Peter’s gonna wake up soon.”

 

He doesn’t know who the fuck Peter is, nor does he care, but he keeps quiet anyway, not wanting the moment to be ruined.

 

Steve handles him with care, but he is also a man on a mission. He’s relentless, teasing Clint as he takes him into his mouth, and then pops off when Clint’s about to explode. It doesn’t take long for it to finally happen, and even through the bliss of orgasmic state he’s a bit disappointed that he didn’t get to finish inside Steve’s mouth. It would have been hot to see Steve trying to swallow it all, leaving a mess all over the place.

 

Suddenly Steve is getting up and heading for the bathroom. What?

 

“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath, “let me reciprocate. The least I can do.”

 

Steve smiles sweetly, shaking his head.

 

“Nah, I’m fine, I’ve gotta freshen up before Pete wakes up.”

 

When Steve is out of sight, Clint breathes deeply, grinning over what just happened. Steve just gave him a blowjob. That was one of the hottest things he’s ever seen in his entire life.

 

He ignores whoever Pete or Peter is, turning to his nightstand for his phone. He pauses when he see’s what’s on his finger.Specifically his ring finger.

 

Are they married? Already?

 

He checks his phone, and unsurprisingly it’s January 12th, 2018.

 

That’s means they haven’t even known each other for that long. Did Steve propose? Probably not. It was probably Clint.

 

He looks around, and then it dawns on him that they’re not at Steve’s house, nor are they at his own. They’re in a huge master bedroom, beautifully decorated.

 

Steve walks out freshly cleaned, and heads out the door. Clint leaves him be, jumping out of bed for a quick shower as well.

 

When he’s also squeaky clean he starts to explore his house. He soon realizes just how huge it is. Mansion huge. Multimillionaire fucking huge.

 

Oh sweet baby Jesus he did it. He finally fucking did it. Right?

 

He hears sounds farther off into the house, and before he knows it he’s walking into a nice kitchen, with Steve cooking and a toddler—

 

Toddler? What the actual fuck?

 

“Good morning,” Steve says, stirring his eggs. “Pete, tell Pop good morning.”

 

“Goo mowning!”

 

Clint just stares, dumbfounded. There’s no way his desperate ass got a fucking kid with Steve. Did he do this? Of course he did this, because he’s extra as fuck. Why did he do this? This is a kid, an actual human being. This isn’t right.

 

He watches Steve be a good father, giving his son eggs and kissing him on the cheek. The dreamlike trance is popped when Peter suddenly asks, “Ees um Tony coming? Um, um Tony, daddy?”

 

“Yup. Everyone’s coming over today for your birthday party, baby. Even Tony.”

 

He squeals excitedly.

 

Clint doesn’t even have it in him anymore to get upset. Of course Tony is part of their lives. Tony will always be part of their lives. But this time they’re married; they’re already married, with a kid. There’s nothing to worry about. He hopes.

 

Steve mostly leaves him alone throughout the day. His phone rings a lot, and he realizes soon enough that he’s a workaholic in this future. Which is just marvelous, of course, meaning that it fucking sucks! Once again this isn’t what Clint asked for.

 

And of course, the first one to arrive is none other than Tony Stark, bearing five gifts, five, for Peter.

 

“Pete! My birthday man! How’s

It going?”

 

“Tony! Tony!”

 

He watches as Peter (not really his son, not really his son, God) jumps into Tony’s arms, and Tony spins him around. They’re both grinning ear to ear, and despite Clint’s attitude, it’s clear that the two of them look adorable together. He wonders how long they’ve known each other. Peter doesn’t look any more older than two and a half, and there’s no way they’ve had him for even a year. How did Peter and Tony grow so close?

 

Steve is walking past him, and he watches guiltily as Tony looks up at Steve and smiles brokenly, as if it pains him to see Steve. Does it? Does it pain him to see Steve, knowing that he’s with someone else?

 

“Oh you didn’t have to, Tony,” Steve is saying, gesturing at the presents that Tony is dragging in. Tony waves it off.

 

“It’s nothing, honest. I mean, they’re special anyway. I know you guys can afford anything you guys want so I just...built some stuff. To make it special.”

 

“Tony,” Steve says, his voice dripping with affection. It makes Clint’s stomach churn.

 

Tony just waves it off again, suddenly looking distant. “Nothing I couldn’t handle, Mister Barton. Now what can I do to help set up?”

 

Clint finally see’s it again, the eye contact conversation they have. It’s intense, Steve looking annoyed and Tony appearing resigned. It ends as quickly as it comes, but Clint see’s it. He always see’s it. Those moments are usually louder than any real conversations they have, so far. 

 

Slowly throughout the day people are pouring in. There’s Sam, Rhodey, Pepper. He’s surprised to see Tony’s friends too, but apparently Steve is close to them. There’s also Bucky, who Clint is surprisingly relieved to see. By three in the afternoon there’s a good crowd, but he’s surprised when he doesn’t see Natasha anywhere.

 

He pulls Steve aside, asking.

 

Steve frowns. “You know why. You guys haven’t talked in almost two years.”

 

Two...almost two years? There’s no way he’d let that happen. Natasha is too important to him. That makes no damn sense. If he had a son and they were having his (apparently second, who knew) second birthday, Natasha wouldn’t miss it for the world. That’s just how their friendship works. They love each other, and they can go weeks without talking and then come back and act like nothing happened. They were in tune like that.

 

What the hell happened?

 

Before Steve can run off he grabs Steve’s arm, worried.

 

“Why don’t I call her? Do we even speak at all?”

 

“Clint, you’re freaking me out.”

 

“Just tell me. What happened? Is she alright?”

 

“You stole her job, Clint, is that what you want to hear?” Steve says, angry. “Now stop acting like this and start socializing. You haven’t even said happy birthday to Peter yet.”

 

A part of him just wants to scream that he doesn’t give a fuck about Peter. He doesn’t know Peter! Not like the rest of them do. And it doesn’t even seem to bother Peter, like he doesn’t really give a fuck about Clint either, and doesn’t that say a lot about their relationship already?

 

But...Natasha. Why would he do that to her? He stole it? Leaving her behind? Is she doing okay? He prays she isn’t homeless, or sick. Is she lonely? He hopes she isn’t lonely.

 

This isn’t him. So far, everyone he’s gone back into the future, or present whatever fuck it just—when he comes back, he isn’t him. He isn’t himself, who he should be. He always feels out of place, even while he’s busy obsessing over Steve. And the only one that ever pulls him back down to earth is—

 

Is Bucky. Bucky has always been there so far to shed some light, to show Clint what’s wrong, what Clint isn’t seeing.

 

Clint isn’t Tony, and that’s just it. Thats how it’s always been, and will be.

 

“Hey,” someone says softly. Clint knows that voice.

 

He turns to see Bucky, looking better than ever. For once, Clint notices that his breath is taken away by Bucky. His heart swells, like it usually does when Bucky is around. He ignores it most of the time, but now he see’s it.

 

“You alright? You look a bit sick there.”

 

“I...could be better,” he decides to say.

 

Bucky chuckles lightly, nodding at the ground as he walks closer. “I get it, what with Peter getting older. Next thing you know he’s eighteen and heading off to college. Isn’t that just wild?”

 

“Wild,” Clint repeats. He keeps his eyes on Tony and Steve, who are spending their time with Peter. They look like a family. They look like a damn good family. Why did he keep wanting to break it apart?

 

Peter. He needs to know his full name. He frowns when he realizes that he’s going to look like a terrible father if he starts to ask questions about Peter, but who cares, he’ll be back in the past tomorrow.

 

“How did I find him?” He asks, going for sounding grateful, but Bucky just snorts.

 

“Yeah, you take all the credit, why don’t you. You barely handled any of the paperwork. It was Steve and Tony doing all the labor.”

 

“Ah, what?” That sounds like bull crap.

 

“Don’t act so surprised, it’s already been months.” Bucky eyes him, and then rolls his eyes. “Come on, do you know how lonely Steve gets? You work twenty four seven, and frankly I’m surprised you’re still here. Have you even gone to work today?”

 

“No,” he replies, chewing on his nails. He’s still watching Steve and Tony, occasionally bumping into each other. He then watches them watch Peter, quietly having a conversation. Even from a distance he can tell that they love each other. Even with Steve’s wedding ring on, bright and flashy near his hair as he scratches his head. He can see that Tony hates it; he hates that ring, hates that Steve’s married—married to somebody else.

 

It reminds him of how he feels.

 

How he used to feel.

 

Nothing is working out, and that’s probably for good reason. No matter how many times Clint goes back, nothing will work.

 

“They really love each other, don’t they,” Clint says, watching as Tony says something to Steve that makes him frown.

 

Bucky awkwardly coughs from next to him.

 

“Well I’d say just about as much as Steve and I care for each other.”

 

“Don’t bullshit me, Barnes.”

 

“Well, it’s true. Maybe more.”

 

“Bucky.”

 

“What do you want me to say? They’re having an affair? Because they’re not.”

 

“No, I...” he doesn’t know what to say. Confirmation? He doesn’t need it, he knows, anyone with eyes know they love each other. He just...”Tell me I’m doing something wrong. Tell me to stop; that I’m chasing after someone that will never be mine.”

 

Bucky stays silent.

 

“You are a good guy, Clint. Don’t forget that,” he eventually says before walking away, joining Rhodey and Sam.

 

Clint’s gotta go back. This time, he’s going to do things right. He has to.

 

No one is talking to him much, and as a way to torture himself, and maybe even Tony, he walks up to the two men and waits to be acknowledged.

 

Steve gives Clint a small smile when Tony finishes his sentence, and because Clint is an asshole and he’s bitter and he’s accepted that Steve isn’t his anyway, he brings Steve into a kiss, trying to savor every moment he can get. In his mind, he thinks: Don’t worry, Tony, soon enough he’ll be all yours again.

 

Steve is the one to pull away first, and he doesn’t look at Tony when he does, instead biting his lip and looking down. Clint looks at Tony, and the man is staring off far onto his left, away from them, pretending that he’s looking at something very interesting. When Clint follows his line of sight, it’s purposely aimed at a hideous painting of a bony child with an ugly man at a dinner table. Something that seems typical for an asshole rich guy to have at his house. Which he guesses he is now. Maybe not so much the asshole this time, he hopes.

 

“Ugly, isn’t it?” Clint asks, and finally Tony’s head snaps back to them. His eyes are purposely trained on Clint. He feels a little bad, because he can tell from his peripheral that Steve is looking at Tony.

 

“Ah, what?”

 

Clint nods towards the ugly thing. “The painting you were looking at.”

 

Tony looks back, and suddenly Clint realizes that Tony wasn’t even looking at it, probably too lost in thought.

 

“Oh yeah,” Tony mumbles. “I guess.”

 

“Funny,” Steve says, looking at Clint with confusion. “You insisted on getting that when we bought it. Now you see it? After wasting thousands?”

 

Clint blinks in surprise, as if he was slapped. Because that thing? That thing he wouldn’t even touch with a ten foot pole.

 

“Moving on,” Clint says, steering away from that mess, “How’ve you been Tony? Haven’t seen—“ he stops, suddenly realizing that he doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s seen Tony. It could have been yesterday. God he’s starting to hate jumping to an alternate present. It’s exhausting. “...you in awhile?”

 

At that, Tony’s face breaks into an amused smile. “You are correct. It’s been awhile, I guess. You aren’t at the house much.”

 

Clint accidentally makes a face, his mind immediately going to Steve cheating on him with Tony. Even if Bucky said they weren’t having an affair, it doesn’t mean it’s true. He could have been saving Steve, or maybe he doesn’t know Steve all that well. Clearly, neither does Clint, because he honestly has no clue.

 

Steve must’ve seen the look on his face, because then he’s hitting Clint’s shoulder and rolling his eyes.

 

“For the adoption process, Christ.”

 

Tony’s eyes widen. “Oh, right, no. Sorry, I didn’t realize—no, Steve and I would never. Ever.”

 

It’s awkwardly silent after that.

 

“Yeah,” Clint says, thinking of a random name quickly. Tony’s attractive enough, and probably still rich, so he’s probably with a bunch of women, especially single ones. What was the name of that one girl? “Are you still with that um...Christine girl?”

 

Steve nudges him and hisses, “Clint.”

 

Tony smiles pleasantly. “Ah, I don’t know any Christine’s. I haven’t been with anyone in awhile, actually. Too busy. But I did...” he hesitates, his eyes flicking to Steve before focusing on Clint again. “...meet someone. I, uh, actually his name’s Noah. We’ve been going out for a month or so.”

 

“You should’ve invited him over,” Clint says automatically, trying to be polite, but when he see’s that Tony’s attention isn’t on him, he turns to see Steve fighting off a frown.

 

“Oh,” Steve says, his voice deep. “You didn’t tell me.”

 

“He never really came up.”

 

And great. This just proves how far Steve will ever be from ever wanting Clint as much as he wants Tony. He’s standing next to his husband and still looks crushed over the idea of Tony dating someone.

 

Please don’t do the eye talk, please don’t do the eye talk...

 

...and there it is. Of course. Damn they’re having a full length conversation. Should Clint just leave?

 

“I’m gonna go...over...” he points somewhere, and he starts to leave until Steve pulls Clint back, shaking his head.

 

“No, stay. I’m just a little surprised, is all. You never said anything.”

 

“Well. Now it’s known.” Tony shrugs, as if to say ‘What can you do?’

 

“Now it is.” Steve tugs Clint closer, and then he holds Clint’s hand. He almost glares, because he knows why Steve’s doing this, and it isn’t fair, but he lets it happen, because he isn’t used to the feeling of holding Steve’s hand. “Well Clint and I hope it works out this time. It’s always nice to be in a healthy relationship.”

 

That’s just cruel. Steve has to know what he’s doing to Tony. Unless they really don’t know that they like each other. Maybe they really don’t know what they do to the other, maybe they just helplessly pine...like Clint does, and only wish that the other would react.

 

Luckily Tony doesn’t have to respond to that (unfortunately his face says enough) but that’s because Peter is stomping over, demanding for Tony to let him open his presents, because apparently the oh so terrible Uncle Bucky isn’t letting him.

 

“Ask Rhodey,” Tony winks, bending down and quickly zeroing in on Peter. “He probably won’t be able to resist those puppy eyes of yours.”

 

“No,” Steve immediately says. “Hey, no, you’ve gotta wait for the cake. Don’t you want cake first?”

 

“No!” Peter says, stomping his foot and curling his hands into baby fists.

 

Clint smiles. He looks adorable, especially with his nose scrunching like that.

 

“Why don’t you ask your other papa, huh? Maybe you’ll get more luck with him.” Tony looks at Clint and winks.

 

Clint glances at him. He stands awkwardly, unsure if he even has a say on this. Does he? Of course. He’s the other parent.

 

He resists a shudder. He doesn’t want a kid. Not yet, at least. No where near the near future, that’s for sure.

 

“Mm, pop? I ‘anna open pwesents!”

 

Lord, what should he do? He isn’t sure. Steve’s face says no, but Peter’s face...right. This is his apparent ‘son’. He should act like a good father. A good husband. Right?

 

Darn but he wants to be fun! He wants to pick that kid up and fly him over to the presents, damn his parents, and be there right with him when he opens them. But for whatever reason he doesn’t want to be his Dad. It doesn’t feel right. He wants to be...the fun uncle. He wants to be this kids god parent or something, not his damn father.

 

“Let’s have some cake first,” he eventually decides to say. Peter pouts, hard, and Clint can tell that the water works about to start so he quickly changes gear.

 

“Hey, fine. Let’s open the presents! Cake can wait. It’s overrated anyway.”

 

He watches as Peter suddenly jumps in excitement, squealing again as he runs over to his presents. He smiles proudly, but when he looks at Steve, he’s met with a disapproving frown.

 

“I told you that you need to work on being stern. He has to know that he can’t get whatever he wants whenever he wants it.”

 

Clint waves him off. He won’t be a father by tomorrow anyway.

 

And then his heart hurts, because what would happen to Peter then? Would Peter have parents? Would he be loved? Peter has to exist for real. Right? Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe Clint is just having ducked up dreams and Peter...is just a figment of his imagination.

 

Suddenly an idea pops into his head.

 

“Hey Tony, do you plan on having any kids one day? I mean, you seem to do well with Peter.”

 

Maybe he can convince them to adopt a child. That would be great. And it could be Peter. Then he won’t have to worry so much about how the adorable little kid is doing.

 

Tony tries to hide a flinch. Clint see’s it though, and he frowns. Oh no. What’s wrong? Why not? He was doing perfectly well with Peter!

 

“Probably not,” Tony says honestly. “I just...I mean, I love Peter to death but I’m just...as a father, I wouldn’t be...” he trails off, shrugging again. “It wouldn’t work out.”

 

He’s surprised when he hears Steve openly scoff at Tony, and apparently Tony too because he’s looking at Steve with wide eyes.

 

“That’s bull and you know it,” Steve says confidently. “You’d be an amazing father, Tony. Probably better than I am.”

 

This time Tony snorts. “Right. Based off of what? Pete? It’s not that hard to please a child. Raising one? That just isn’t my forte.”

 

Steve opens and closes his mouth. He looks like he already knows what he wants to say, rather than finding it, but he glances at Clint and backs down. So that’s definitely something he doesn’t want Clint to hear. Great.

 

At that, Clint just leaves them, not in the mood for more mind games. If this is his life, then it’s probably no wonder why he works so much.

 

He catches Bucky’s eye a couple times throughout the rest of the night. He side watches Tony and Steve, who don’t even seem to care that they’ve been side by side practically the whole damn night, and he sometimes glances at Peter’s excited face as he opens his presents. The first he opens is from Bucky, which was a small coloring book with a few crayons, but the best part was that it was a coloring book about Peter’s apparently favorite insect: spiders.

 

No way is this his kid, God, what kid loves spiders?

 

Then there was Sam’s gift, which was a sound book about birds, and then Rhodey, who gave him a water gun. Pepper handed him an interesting toy kitchen set. It goes on and on like that, various mundane (and occasionally even fun for Clint?) toys that would only excite a two year old, until finally it’s Tony’s presents being opened.

 

The first one Tony hands him of the five is a manual of some sort with candy and a note from the man himself. Tony’s eyes seem to widen at that, quickly mumbling something about that should have been last, and then he’s quickly grabbing something else and having Peter open that. The second is a box of metal...toys. With more candy with them. Peter seems to be happy with all the candy being offered. All the adults look at one another, and Clint finds himself looking at Bucky instead of Steve for confirmation of what’s going on. Bucky shrugs.

 

“It’s for...just wait,” Tony mumbles.

 

He hands Peter the third present. It’s definitely big, bigger than Peter, and when he opens it up it’s a tiny...workshop?

 

“He’s smart,” Tony offers with a nervous smile. “A little workshop would’ve done me good, so.”

 

Peter seems to love it though. He’s already setting his coloring book down on the tiny desk Tony build for him, and there’s also a built in cup for Peter to hold his pencils and whatnot, and the cute little guy even stuffs his crayons in there, smiling wide.

 

The fourth is also a good size, and Tony is actually there to open the present with Peter. Clint’s eyes widen when the whole thing comes out.

 

It looks like a dog. A metal dog, to be exact.

 

“It’s—“

 

“Doggy!” Peter squeals, hugging the metal thing. Tony blushes when everyone’s mouths are wide open.

 

“He doesn’t...I mean, he barks a little, not much. He needs to be fed, but he doesn’t need to go to the bathroom. He burns off the fuel. Oh, yeah, he needs gas to work but. He can last three weeks with one gallon. Not all at once, but. Because he’s small. I know that real dogs are tough to handle and I just thought...” he stops, ignoring Peter playing with the frozen, unmoving puppy. “Was this too much?”

 

“That’s amazing, Tony,” Rhodey is the first to say, and then everyone is talking all at once.

 

Tony eventually turns the dog on, and then he mentions that it wouldn’t be wise to turn the dog off and on too much. It sleeps and such, and from what he could tell it isn’t aggressive towards other dogs or humans. He mentions the manual that was first opened, and that it has all the rules and such. He then mumbles that he thinks the dog should only last fifteen years...maybe thirty.

 

Peter is too busy playing with him to listen. Even if he was, he wouldn’t understand all that he was saying. Suddenly the metal toys make sense though. They weren’t for Peter, but for the dog.

 

Everyone disperses for cake, and Steve isn’t talking to Tony. Clint doesn’t know why he feels disappointed by that. Then he thinks about the fifth present. Didn’t Tony have five with him?

 

They all eat cake and chatter. Steve’s with Bucky and Pepper, while Tony stays with Sam and Rhodey. Clint doesn’t know either of them really well, only Bucky, but he also doesn’t want to be near Steve.

 

Why is life so difficult for him?

 

He goes to Tony first, clapping his back as he says, “I loved the dog. Must’ve been a lot of work.”

 

Tony jumps, and then he’s smiling nervously again. “I’m sorry. I know you guys could have been waiting for a real dog, but I just...y’know, he’s supposed to be easier, and less work. I just thought that it’d be nice—“

 

“Hey,” Clint says, frowning. “I said I loved it. Why’re you apologizing?”

 

Tony stops, thinking. He looks up, and Clint realizes he’s looking at Steve, but then Tony’s looking at his hands. “Yeah, Okay. I’m glad you like it.”

 

 

 

Slowly people start leaving and saying goodnight. Peter is still up and playing with the dog, and suddenly it’s only Bucky and Sam still at the house. Sam and Tony are talking, Steve trying to put Peter to bed, so all that’s left is for Clint to talk to Bucky.

 

“Don’t,” Bucky says before Clint can open his mouth. Clint furrows his brows.

 

“I wasn’t—“

 

“Steve loves you, alright? He loves you a lot. It’s just that, Tony’s like a kid. He requires so much attention and love and he’s sometimes just so innocent and he acts like he doesn’t know why you’re mad because he tries his best, y’know? He tries so hard and it makes you feel bad when you’re mad. But he’s so aggravating at the same damn time.”

 

“Again,” Clint says, “Are you sure you’re not the one in love with Tony?”

 

Bucky frowns, narrowing his eyes. “What?”

 

Clint jolts. Right. He said that in the other future. Not here.

 

“Never mind. Why did you feel the need to say that?”

 

Bucky sighs, throwing his head down.

 

“Sometimes I just feel so bad for you.”

 

Clint’s mouth tastes sour. “Right. Because I’m pathetic.”

 

“What? No,” Bucky says, his face twisting oddly. “Stop talking for one second. Jeez, you make no sense sometimes.”

 

Bucky stands closer, his face solemn, continuing. “I feel like you should know that I’m here for you. If you...ever need to talk, I know you’re busy most of the time but...” he sucks in a breath, and then laughs a little. “Sorry, lost my train of thought. The alcohol must be getting to me.”

 

They’re standing unusually close, Bucky almost leaning on to him, and Bucky’s eyes seem to widen, and then he backs away.

 

“I think it’s time for me to go.”

 

Clint takes a second to regroup. “What?”

 

“Bye, Clint. Tell Steve that I’ll call him tomorrow.”

 

“Bucky—“

 

But he’s already leaving. Clint doesn’t have the energy to go after him. Or maybe he just knows it isn’t worth it. What’s the point? He’ll be gone by tomorrow.

 

He sighs, turning the light off when Bucky is all the way towards the other side of the living room, closing the door behind him. He’s about to leave, already trying to remember where his room is, when he notices that a light is still on. The kitchen. Right.

 

He walks over, ready to get in and turn the light off and finally go to bed, when he hears hushed whispers. He pauses, leaning in towards the entryway, but not revealing himself.

 

“...and stop looking at me like that, I already said I’m sorry!” Tony hisses.

 

“That’s not fair, Tony. You know how unfair this is.”

 

“What? I can’t spoil him if I want to? Fuck you.”

 

“You know what you’re doing. Do you really think it’s a good idea for him to get so attached to you? I know how you are. The moment someone shows that they even care a little bit for you, you vanish for five months and then pop up like nothing happened with a kid that would be such a good idea to adopt!”

 

It’s dead silent. Clint feels something sharp in his throat, and no matter how hard he swallows it won’t go away.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“You know that means nothing to me now,” Steve says, but he doesn’t sound angry, only exhausted.

 

After awhile, tentatively, Tony asks, “What is this? What are we doing?”

 

There’s an even longer moment of silence. Clint didn’t realize he was holding his breath.

 

“...good night Tony. And keep this.” There’s shuffling, and suddenly Clint’s mind goes to the missing fifth present. “And maybe you should stay away for awhile. For both of our sake.”

 

“Steve—“

 

“Stay with Noah. I think he’ll be good for you.”

 

Footsteps start getting closer, and Clint bolts as quietly as he can. His heart is beating widely, and he’s never felt so guilty in his life. That wasn’t a conversation meant for his ears, damn him, but it was worth it. It gave all the answers Clint needed.

 

 

 

 

Steve is already fast asleep, not even having noticed that Clint climbed out of bed. He feels sick looking at it, knowing that just a few hours ago Steve gave him a blowjob.

 

He waits to see the star. He looks out the window, occasionally glancing at Steve’s sleeping form.

 

He looks back up to the sky, and then there it is. He closes his eyes, making his wish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I don’t have the fifth chapter done but I WILL TRY MY ABSOLUTE BEST to have it up by either tomorrow or the day after. Please feel free to pester me for another update if it’s been over three or four days. 
> 
> Comment and give kudos is you enjoyed please! Thanks for reading :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long but it’s finally finished!! I really enjoyed trying a different type of storyline and writing from Clint’s POV! Thank you to all the people that bothered to comment and/or gave kudos! This was pretty fun :)

 V.

 

He busies himself by staring at the ceiling. It’s the first time he’s woken up before the sun has reached his window. It’s barely light enough for him to see the cracks on the ceiling—cracks that have been there for years. Flaws that weren’t that annoying when he first moved in, but are steadily becoming more and more of an eyesore.

 

He can’t help but think about poor Peter. According to bits and pieces of what he’s gathered, Tony found Peter for Steve. What can he do to work with that? Peter needs to be in their life, just as he was in Clint and Steve’s life.

 

Does it have anything to do with the day they met? Of course, but the specific day? What if Tony met Steve two days earlier, would that alter the day that they get married and perhaps adopt?

 

There’s no harm in trying, right?

 

Time to find Tony Stark.

 

~~~

 

“He’s out of the office for today, Sir. You’ll have to schedule a meeting with him for a later date. The next time he’s available is...August. Would August twenty first work for you? Three pm?”

 

Clint carefully holds in a groan.

 

“No, you don’t understand, I need him today. Can’t you just call him? Tell him an old friend has come by to say hi?”

 

She levels him with an unimpressed gaze. “He’s not in today. Would you like to leave a note?”

 

So...this isn’t working.

 

“Is Pepper here then? Is she in today?”

 

“Miss Potts? I believe so. She’s in a meeting right now until eleven. Then it’s her lunch break, but I believe she’s cleared until one thirty. You can probably squeeze in fifteen minutes, if she’s feeling nice. I’ll leave a message in her office. What’s your name again, Sir?”

 

She probably won’t answer to Clint. He needs something that would catch her attention.

 

“Tell her I’m a friend of Rhodey’s and Tony’s. From back in college. Tell her I need her help.”

 

“Of course. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like. I’m not sure when she’d call you in.”

 

Why not? He’s got nothing better to do.

 

 

 

He’s never been more bored in his life. The apps he has on his phone suck, and he can’t find anything interesting in the little store full of them. He settles with a random free e-book, and barely ten pages in the assistant calls him over.

 

“Miss Potts says she ready for you.”

 

She points toward the direction of her office, and Clint feels his hands go clammy. What is he going to say to her? Give me Tony’s number, so that I can go and set him up with a guy that I’m not supposed to know and hope it all works out in two years with an adopted kid. Pretty please?

 

He opens her door, and she smiles when she see’s him.

 

“Friend of Tony’s? What’s your name?”

 

He closes the door lightly behind him, going for the single seat in front of her desk.

 

“Clint Barton. It’s a pleasure, Miss Potts.”

 

She laughs. “Right. So who are you really?”

 

Clint coughs, the plan formulating in his head evaporating. “Excuse me?”

 

“Rhodey and Tony don’t have mutual friends. Especially ones that I don’t know about. So what do you want?”

 

“You’re their friend, aren’t you?”

 

She ignores him, grabbing a pen and a folder, writing down something Clint can’t see.

 

“Let me guess, sex tape? Tony slept with your sister or something? You’ll make more money selling it to any news outlet here.”

 

Clint leans back, getting himself comfortable. He can work with this.

 

“Why’d you let me in?”

 

She pauses, her pen stopping. She looks up, an almost smirk appearing on her face. “You intrigued me.”

 

“You’re really beautiful.”

 

She looks back down again, continuing on with her writing. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere. You’ve got five minutes to say what you need before I kick you out.”

 

“I need to set Tony up with a friend of mine.”

 

She hums, not seeming interested. He resists biting into his nails. Does this happen a lot? Why is she even wasting her time on Clint?

 

“I know Tony is going to a charity benefit in two days. My friend is also going there. I just think it’d be great for them to meet beforehand. Maybe a spark can happen between the two.”

 

“And you can’t wait for two days because?”

 

“Because it needs to happen today,” Clint insists. She sets her pen down, now looking annoyed. “His names Steve Rogers. He’s a sweet guy, and I just know that they’d hit it off. And...he’d make Tony happy. I know Tony constantly pushes people away. He can’t hold relationships and he’s insecure as hell and hides behind a stupid facade and walks around like he doesn’t give a fuck but he does. He cares too much about what others think and say and they’re always putting him down but...Steve won’t do that to him. Steve’s a great guy. They compliment each other perfectly.”

 

He doesn’t know if all of that is even true, he’s mostly just repeating what he’s heard from Steve, but he hopes that it’s believable enough. He regrets tuning out Steve whenever he mentions Tony.

 

Pepper looks surprised, and then she’s nodding vigorously. “Oh, okay, yeah. I’m so sorry, I thought you didn’t know Tony, he’s never mentioned you. I’ll—I’ll call him right now, let him know you’re here.” She reaches for her phone, but Clint jumps up, stopping her.

 

“No! No, just—tell him—tell him to meet me at nine in the parking lot of Pioneer tonight. Don’t say my name. Just say an old friend.”

 

She squints, confused, but she nods. “Okay. I will. Sorry to cut this short but I’ve got other things to take care of. But I’ll call, let him know. Clint, was it?”

 

“Yes,” he says, standing up. He reaches over to shake her hand, and she lets him, still eyeing him a bit curiously. “It was a pleasure, Miss Potts. Thank you for your time.”

 

“You’re...welcome.”

 

Clint leaves, satisfied. Now all he needs to do is hope that Tony actually shows up.

 

~~~

 

He’s waiting nervously, keeping an eye out for Tony. It feels weird being in a different place for the first time, realizing that he’s changing the past again. It feels a lot more permanent this time, that he’s changing a lot by bringing Tony in early. But it’s too late to regret it now.

 

He turns his head, and he’s surprised to see Bucky, on his phone, walking around, the light illuminating his face. He looks sad, strangely enough, and though Clint should be looking for Tony, he calls out to the man.

 

“Hey!”

 

Bucky looks up, confused, and then he see’s Clint. He looks around, probably hoping that Clint was talking to somebody else, before lazily meeting Clint’s eye and walking over.

 

“Yes?”

 

Right. Why did Clint call him over? They don’t know each other yet. Why is he so bad at this?

 

“Um...can I borrow your phone? Mine died and I’m waiting for a friend.”

 

Bucky looks hesitant. He stares at his hand for whatever reason, before handing his phone to Clint.

 

“Gotta be quick. I have to go back to the party soon.”

 

Just as he takes his phone however, and Clint freaking out wondering what number he’s going to call, the phone behind to ring, and the name ‘Logan’ pops up.

 

“Oh,” Bucky says, reaching for his phone. “Sorry but I have to take this. It won’t be long.”

 

“Of course,” Clint mumbles, but he’s pretty sure Bucky doesn’t hear him, because he’s already answering his phone.

 

“Hello? Logan, where are you? I thought you said you’d be here.”

 

Clint awkwardly listens in, but he doesn’t hear anything from this Logan. Why does the name sound so familiar?

 

“Don’t bullshit me. Sam and I have been planning this for a month, and you’re just going to decide that you’re ‘tired’? Hey, no, fuck you!” There’s a pause, then Bucky laughs, but it isn’t happy. “Oh, okay, just throw that at my face why don’t you. No, you know what? I’m so fucking tired of this. Let me talk! You either want this to work or not. Your choice.” Clint holds his breath. He watches as Bucky sags in defeat, only for a second, before straightening up and saying confidently: “Good. I want your things gone by tomorrow morning.” He hangs up, and stares down at his screen. He stares for a good few seconds, and Clint scruffs his shoe against the ground to subtly get his attention.

 

Bucky looks up, surprised.

 

“Fuck,” he says with a groan, covering his face. “Did you...get all that?”

 

“Nope. Didn’t hear a single word.”

 

Bucky stares at him. He then sighs. “Okay. Ah, my phone, right? Here. Sorry about that.”

 

“No, it’s fine. My mom likes to call at odd hours too.”

 

Bucky finally laughs at that, shaking his head. “Got me there, blondie.”

 

“Clint.” He takes Bucky’s phone as Bucky scrunches his nose.

 

“Huh?”

 

“My names Clint, just in case you wanted to know.” He begins to type in Natasha’s number. Hopefully she won’t answer.

 

“Oh...um, Bucky then.”

 

Clint pauses to look up and smile. Bucky gives a light one back. It leaves Clint blushing.

 

Suddenly he’s blinded with light, and he closes his eyes. There’s a car in front of him, he can hear it, and when he moves away from the headlights, the car turns off. Bucky and Clint stare as someone climbs out, and he has to get his thoughts back together when he see’s Tony Stark climb out. Holy crap. Clint forgot about that.

 

“Tony!” He says, and he quickly gives Bucky back his phone. He walks over, Tony looking confused.

 

“Sorry, I don’t feel like taking a picture right now—“

 

“No,” he says quickly, grabbing Tony’s elbow. “Come, you’ve gotta meet—“ he stops, remembering that Bucky is right there. He doesn’t want to say Steve’s name and freak Bucky out. He has to do this quick. “—my friend. I’m the one that met Pepper today.”

 

“You? I don’t know you. Where are you taking me?”

 

“Trust me. We’re in a public area, I can’t do anything to you.”

 

“I can’t believe you tricked Pepper. How did you do that?”

 

He ignores Tony, catching Bucky’s eye.

 

“Hey, I’ll see you around. Thanks for the phone.”

 

“But you didn’t use it—?”

 

He drags Tony further towards the park, leaving Bucky behind. He lets go of Tony’s arm when he begins to follow without struggle.

 

“So who are you?”

 

“Clint. I’m a friend.”

 

“A friend, huh? You don’t look familiar.”

 

“A friend of a friend.”

 

“Ah. Friend of a friend. Right. Well, this has been fun, Clint, but you’ve been a waste of my time.”

 

He turns, quickly grabbing at Tony again. “No, please! Just meet this one guy and I promise it’ll all make sense.”

 

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Why should I trust you?”

 

Automatically Clint rattles off nonsense he’s sure Steve has said a thousand times. “Because you need someone in your life right now. I know you’re on the verge of giving up, turning everyone away because you’re scared of yourself and what you might do to them. You’re so lonely, and you think that no one even wants you around when you know it’s not true. You stay up for days because you hate going to sleep and dreaming about something else, a different like where you’re actually happy and everyone you love is there, safe, content, exactly where they should be. I know you, Tony. I...” he stops, blinking. Wow. He does know Tony, doesn’t he? And all this time he thought he hated him.

 

Tony looks at him with a mix of fear and admiration. “So...friend of a friend, huh? A bit believable now.”

 

Clint shakes his head. Focus. He has a mission. “Come on, you’ve gotta meet Steve.”

 

Tony let’s himself get dragged, and from then on Clint focuses on looking for Steve. It takes awhile, Tony asking questions most of the time, and then they’re bumping into him, and Clint stops himself from signing in relief.

 

“Hey, big guy, mind if we crash?”

 

Tony looks at Clint in confusion, but then Steve is turning around, and Tony’s eyes widen. Steve looks at Tony too, and blushes.

 

“Oh, hey. Hi.”

 

Tony glances at Clint, swallowing. “Hey, yourself.”

 

Clint looks around, and pretends he found someone he knows. “Oh! Look, I’ve gotta go. There’s a, um, my friend. Talk to each other!”

 

“Clint!” He hears Tony hiss, but he’s already leaving, and just before he’s out of hearing range he hears Steve ask, “You know him?”

 

He doesn’t know how that conversation will go, but he hopes it works out.

 

He’s left walking around aimlessly, not knowing any of the people around (neither wanting to know them) and unable to find a familiar face. However, he see’s Bucky off towards his right, staring at his phone. He looks angry, which isn’t surprising. Clint goes to him anyway.

 

“Hey,” he says, and Bucky looks at him with a glare, but then he recognizes Clint and stops.

 

“Oh. Hi. Didn’t think I’d see you around.”

 

Clint glances at his phone, and Bucky notices. He sighs.

 

“I know. I’m...looking through our old text messages. Pathetic, right?”

 

Clint quickly shakes his head. “No, no. Not at all. I mean, I get it. Well, not really. I’ve never—well, actually, funny thing is I’ve never actually fallen in love with anybody. Other than. Other than somebody I couldn’t...have. But, we never had anything, you know, cute so I guess—“

 

Bucky chuckles. “You can shut up now. It’s fine.”

 

“I’m not helping, am I?”

 

Bucky smiles, and then he’s turning his phone off. “No, you are. Surprisingly enough. What was your name again?”

 

“Oh, yeah, Clint. Bucky?”

 

They shake hands, Bucky nodding his head.

 

They talk for the rest of the night, Bucky’s ‘Logan’ guy not being brought up even once. The shooting star goes by, and everyone gasps at it, and in that moment he see’s Tony and Steve, already making out on the grass. He snorts, and Bucky looks in that direction.

 

“Oh, gross. That’s the guy, Steve, my best friend. He’s not usually like this, though. He’s probably drunk as hell.”

 

He watches them kiss passionately, and it’s much different than when Steve and Clint kissed that other time, when Clint was pretending to be an asshole. He can’t find jealousy anywhere. It makes him smile.

 

Clint and Bucky exchange numbers, and as Bucky decides that Steve has had enough and it was time to go home, Clint got a hold of Tony, and helped lead him towards his vehicle.

 

“Steve is—is, just, wow. I mean, we didn’t talk much but, I mean, fuck. He’s hot as hell. I hope I see him again. I told him to come by the office anytime, but, shit.”

 

“Great, I’m glad you two got along.“

 

“But he said he didn’t know you. So how’d you...how did this all happen?”

 

Clint sighs. He doesn’t know what to say. He looks at the sky, deciding for the truth. “The universe spoke to me.”

 

Tony looks at the sky too, both of them stopped in front of his vehicle.

 

“Alright. I’ll take it. Visit me sometime. You’re not half bad.”

 

Clint grins. “Thanks. You too.”

 

Tony smiles, taking his keys out.

 

“See you soon, Clint. Happy Fourth of July.”

 

Clint nods, bidding him goodbye.

 

~~~

 

He groans, stretching as he yawns. He lazily rubs his stomach, smacking his lips. He’s loose and languid, which is surprising, because he’s never felt so relaxed before.

 

Someone rubs against his shoulder.

 

He frowns, but he doesn’t look to see who it is. Maybe he’s in a relationship with Bucky. Oh, please, that would be amazing actually. Except this person has facial hair. Unless Bucky grew a mustache?

 

He peaks to his left, and he flies out of bed when he see’s Tony.

 

“Oh, fuck, Clint! Are you alright?”

 

“What the—Tony—holy shit,” Clint says, out of breath. What is going on? Why is Tony in his bed? What the heck is happening? “What are you—are we? Fuck.”

 

This is so not right. What happened? Why is Tony in his bed? Why is he only in his underwear?

 

Tony sits up, concerned. “Are you alright? That sounded like it hurt.”

 

“This is wrong,” he says, pulling at his hair. He stands, pacing. Tony watches in confusion.

 

“Hey, it’s fine. We’re fine. What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

 

“This is—this is so bad. What happened to Steve? Where’s Steve?”

 

Tony’s face shutters, and then he’s climbing out of bed as well. “I thought we agreed not to talk about him.”

 

“What happened? Is he...dead?” His heart breaks. No. This isn’t right. Why would Steve die?

 

Tony stares at him like he’s crazy. “No. What is up with you?”

 

Clint has never felt so relieved in his life. “Oh, thank God. Fuck. Don’t do that to me.”

 

“I didn’t? Okay. I think you need to lie down, rest a bit more. Somethings obviously wrong. I’m gonna make some breakfast, yeah? No, don’t, get back in bed. I’ll be right back.”

 

Tony leaves, and just as the bedroom door closes Clint looks for his phone. He finds it in one of the jeans on the floor, and he quickly sets to looking for Steve’s number. Last second he decides against it, pressing Bucky’s instead.

 

“Pick up, pick up,” he whispers desperately. He needs to know what’s going on. This is so wrong, on so many levels. He’s sleeping with Tony. Tony!

 

“Clint? What do you want?”

 

“Bucky?”

 

“What? What is it? Finally going to apologize? ‘Cause it’s too fucking late.”

 

“Apologize?”

 

Bucky breathes in sharply. “You’ve got two seconds before I’m hanging up.”

 

“I’m sorry!” He says quickly. “I’m sorry, I just want to know what happened between Tony and Steve. That’s it.”

 

Bucky curses. “Nothing has happened yet. Shouldn’t you be asking Tony about this? The divorce papers should be arriving soon enough. Is that it?”

 

“Divorce papers?” Oh God. Oh please no. He didn’t cause a divorce, did he? Fuck. No. No, no, no, why can’t he get anything right?

 

“Yes, now I’ve gotta go and pick up the mess you two created. Fuck you, and don’t hesitate to delete my number.”

 

“But I want you!” He says desperately. “I want to be with you, Bucky.” This is all wrong. It shouldn’t have went down like this. But so far nothing has been working. He wasn’t selfish this time. Shouldn’t that have proved anything?

 

It’s still from the other side of the phone. Then: “Don’t call me again, Clint.”

 

The line clicks dead. Clint sighs, throwing his phone onto his bed. He doesn’t have enough time to process it completely before Tony’s opening the door, still clad in his underwear, coming in with a plate of eggs.

 

“I think they’re a bit salty but they should be fine,” Tony says, his eyebrows furrowing as he licks his teeth.

 

“Are we having an affair?”

 

Tony bites his lip thoughtfully, humming. “Not technically. I’m married but going through a divorce. _Would_ this be an affair?”

 

Clint closes his eyes, slumping onto the bed. He rubs his eyes until he see’s stars, feeling more and more crappy about himself as the seconds go by.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Seriously, did you have a bad dream?”

 

“This is my bad dream,” Clint mutters, his sight still obscured by his palms. “I just want to wake up. This isn’t right.”

 

Tony sighs, and he hears him set the plays of eggs down somewhere. “So...you’re breaking up with me. Guess I shouldn’t be too surprised.” 

 

“Oh my God we are in a relationship?”

 

“Clint, I’m kidding. If I’d known you’d be like this in the morning I wouldn’t have done this.”

 

“So...this? This was a one time thing?”

 

Tony laughs, sitting next to him. “Well, yeah. We’re best friends, and I think we work better that way. I mean last night was pretty hot but...” he shrugs, looking away. “...I think we were both thinking of other people.”

 

They both breath out long and loudly, their minds on different things. Clint feels a little more relieved now that he knows they weren’t having an affair behind Steve’s back. That would have just been terrible. But what did cause the divorce? How can he bring it up without seeming like a terrible friend?

 

“So...you’re still in love with Steve.”

 

Tony laughs again, and then lies down on the bed. Clint follows, both of them staring at the ceiling.

 

“Of course, dummy.”

 

“Explain to me why it didn’t work out again? Why you guys are having a divorce?”

 

Tony nudges his shoulder. “Come on, man, don’t make me cry again.”

 

Clint lets himself chuckle. “I heard it’s very therapeutic to, ah, talk about these things. Repeatedly.”

 

They both turn their heads to look at each other, and Clint suddenly realizes how Steve fell head over heels in love with Tony. It’s definitely those eyes; beautiful, oval eyes, framed with long dark lashes.

 

But no. He’s had enough with changing the future. He’s good with Steve having Tony.

 

Tony’s eyes search Clint’s face, before looking back up.

 

“From the beginning?” Tony swallows audibly after asking the question.

 

Clint’s eyesight immediately fixates onto the blank ceiling as well.

 

“Well where else would you begin?” He asks, but his throat feels too dry for it to come off as a light joke. Still, Tony answers.

 

“Okay. It started a few months ago...November, was it? Right? Before thanksgiving?” Tony turns to Clint for affirmation, and Clint withholds expressing his annoyance.

 

“Just pretend I’m your therapist or something. I don’t know anything. Don’t miss a single detail.”

 

“Sorry. Yeah, okay. Um. So, around the beginning of November Steve and I started getting into these really useless arguments. Like, we’d be fine and then the next second we’re arguing about toilet paper and somehow we’re then talking about how much I don’t appreciate him. It always ended like that. Eventually everyday we started just...insulting each other. I would tell him how he never tells me what he wants, that I can’t read minds, he needs to speak, y’know? How am I supposed to know how he feels whenever I’m out late working? I mean, I’m working for _us_. And—and how am I supposed to know that he doesn’t feel appreciated? We’ve been dating basically since the day we met. It’s always been the same. We never even confirmed we were boyfriends, and then suddenly he’s proposing to me and I told him I wasn’t fucking—I wasn’t ready for marriage—“

 

“Hey, breathe, it isn’t your fault,” Clint says, and it’s the truth. It really isn’t Tony’s fault. It’s all Clint’s. He needs to stop messing with their lives.

 

Tony takes a lungful of air, and slowly releases it.

 

“I guess what really broke it off was when he thought you and I were sleeping together. I mean, I guess he was right to have his suspicions, look at us now, but he never believed us. I think he did it on purpose. So that he had a real reason to divorce me. But then he goes and tells everyone to pity him! Pity Steve! He’s got the sleazy husband who’s sleeping with his best friend! How fucking iconic, coming from Tony fucking Stark.”

 

Tony throws an arm over his face, and it takes Clint too long to realize the reason he did it was to hide his tears. He’s a very silent crier, making very minimal noises, but it’s obvious in the way his chest moves and how his throat works. It’s heartbreaking to see.

 

He turns to his side, and unsure of how he should comfort Tony, he just lies his hand on Tony’s stomach, hopeful that it at least shows that he’s trying to help. When Tony doesn’t react, he begins to rub in a slow circle. Is this helping? Do adults like this? His best and only true friend is Natasha, so he isn’t used to comforting people. Or vice versa. They both suck.

 

Tony laughs, uncovering his face. His cheeks are tear streaked and his eyes are glassy, but he’s smiling, so it’s better than nothing.

 

Then Tony shakes his head and grabs Clint’s face, giving him a long, slow kiss. Clint freezes, his eyes going wide and hand lifting to grip Tony’s wrist.

 

“You’re such a great friend,” Tony mumbles against his lips. Clint tries his best to keep cool, because it’s not everyday he kisses Tony Stark, mind you. Thankfully Tony pulls away, sniffling.

 

“Oh,” he mumbles, looking somewhere behind him. “Your eggs are probably cold now.”

 

Clint smiles fondly, figuring that maybe Tony isn’t even half as bad as he thought.

 

“You two deserve each other,” he whispers to himself. “You really do.”

 

When nightfall comes and he’s successfully avoided anymore kisses for the rest of the day, he watches for the star to come by again, feeling weirdly comfortable with Tony sleeping beside him.

 

However, he’s done with messing with everything.

 

He’s ready to go back home.

 

~~~

 

He wakes with a fresh smile on his face, the familiar cracks on his own ceiling a welcoming sight.

 

He doesn’t change a thing this time. He doesn’t look for Tony, he doesn’t look for Steve. He doesn’t try to act like someone else. There’s a split second where he almost talks to Bucky, just to say one thing, but he decides against it.

 

He goes with Steve to the poorly lit gas station. Steve complains about the donuts, they stare at the sky, and the shooting star flies by.

 

“Look! Look! A shooting star!”

 

Clint doesn’t look at it. He thinks he’s done with shooting stars from now on.

 

“Did you make a wish?” Steve asks softly.

 

Clint smiles, inwardly chuckling. “Sure. You?”

 

Steve looks back up at the sky. He still looks beautiful like this, but Clint’s found someone even more breathtaking.

 

“I wished to meet the One.”

 

~~~

 

He’s scared when he opens his eyes. It takes him a second to realize his alarm is going off, and he quickly grabs his phone to turn it off.

 

January 12th 2018 is the date.

 

Perfect. Perfect! It feels like it’s been too long. He’s home. He’s finally home.

 

And he isn’t going to change a fucking thing, no matter how impatient he feels. He’s going to re-do this day exactly how he remembers it as well.

 

Well, not exactly. He doesn’t feel like cleaning his bathroom. Last time he was stress cleaning, because of the engagement party. Now he doesn’t need to do that anymore. He can sit back, relax, and watch some TV. That sounds like a good plan.

 

 

 

He takes a shower an hour before he has to leave for the party, and almost unconsciously he finds himself dressing up. It’s for Bucky, of course it is, but the thing is, nothing has changed. Maybe he has, and maybe he’s learned a whole lot more about Bucky because of all this, but Bucky is still...Bucky. Occasionally there and not that interested in getting to know Clint.

 

Why does that hurt more than it should?

 

Either way he dresses up, stubbornly telling himself that it isn’t for Bucky.

 

He arrives pathetically at eight, just as he did originally. He’s starting to loath his past self. Bucky was completely right: Clint was pathetic. Eh, maybe still is. He couldn’t have done a complete one eighty in just a few days. Right?

 

He walks inside the busy home, feeling more alive than ever. Everything is as it should be. Families and friends mingling, light chatter and crinkling firewood. Warm air and a light atmosphere; nothing too harsh, but neither too soft. Just...perfect.

 

He makes his way into the living room, and he beelines toward Natasha the moment he catches sight of her hair. She’s talking to Sam, and he quickly goes in to steal a hug.

 

“Woah. Clint?” She asks, but she doesn’t question, hugging him back. This is why he loves her. “Hey, if you aren’t feeling too well we can go home?”

 

She knows how he felt about Steve. That’s exactly what she asked last time, and of course he said no, and then got really drunk. That’s one thing he’s willing to change.

 

“I’m actually doing really great,” Clint says, meeting her eyes head on, and she blinks repeatedly in surprise.

 

“You—you’re serious? As in...completely?”

 

Sam must be looking at them as if they’re crazy, but they’re best friends, and best friends always know what they’re saying to each other.

 

“Yes. One hundred percent.”

 

She must see it in his face, or something, because she squeals for the first time in years and gives him another hug. He can feel how proud she is, and it makes his heart soar.

 

“I’m so happy for you,” she whispers. He nods against her. He takes a moment to just breathe her in. He missed her.

 

When he pulls away, he see’s another familiar face, and he quickly gives her a kiss while mumbling bye. He walks over to Steve and Tony, tapping Steve’s shoulder to get his attention. Steve turns, and Tony does along with him, offering Clint a polite smile. Tony and he never spoke much, mostly because of Clint, but he gives a grin back to Tony before focusing his attention of Steve. Hopefully he and Tony can soon become friends.

 

“Hey Clint,” Steve says, and then leans in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

 

Clint squeezes him hard before letting go. “Better. Been through a lot these past couple of days.”

 

Steve nods, a concerned frown forming on his face. “Oh, good. Sorry we’ve been so busy these past few weeks. I’ve missed you, we need to catch up. I’m glad you were able to make it, by the way. I’m glad you’re here.”

 

Clint turns to Tony, giving him a hand to shake. “Hey, Tony, we should get to know each other better too. Hey maybe sometime next week for breakfast or something.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve says, perking up. “That sounds great actually. Next Saturday?”

 

Tony shakes his hand. He’s warm, and he looks happy, which is great. They both look happy, which is even better. So why does he feel like he’s missing something?

 

“Sure, how’s next Saturday sound? We can probably tag Bucky along.”

 

Steve nudges Tony at that, but Clint’s too preoccupied with figuring out...oh, Peter!

 

“Peter!” Clint bursts out. He shakes Steve’s shoulders. “Oh shit, you guys need to adopt! Like now! His name’s Peter and he’s a great kid—“

 

Tony shushes him, looking around. Steve stares with wide eyes.

 

“Clint,” he says slowly. “That’s supposed to be a surprise. How’d you know?”

 

Clint snaps his mouth closed. Well. The universe does work in mysterious ways. He clears his throat.

 

“Never mind. Sorry. Weird dream. Um, congratulations?”

 

He turns his head, and he zeroes in on exactly who he wants to talk to. He interrupts whatever Steve is saying, telling them that it was nice to see them and he’ll text them about Saturday, and he quickly runs off towards Bucky before he can disappear.

 

Sam is now here with Bucky instead of Natasha, and when he looks past Bucky’s shoulder he notices Clint. He smirks before telling something to Bucky, and the brunette turns with searching eyes. However, once he catches sight of Clint, he laughs at him.

 

“Well look who decided to finally show up. Busy day?”

 

Sam rolls his eyes, for reasons Clint has no clue of, but he’s just glad that Bucky is talking to him.

 

“I guess you can say that,” Clint replies. “Busy few days, at least. But it’s all settled now.”

 

“Hm, sounds ominous. Anything we should be worried about?” Bucky looks back at Sam, lazily smirking. Sam purses his lips in response.

 

Clint laughs, walking closer. “No, I promise.”

 

“Alright well I’m gonna go use the bathroom. Have fun,” Sam says, ruffling Bucky’s hair before leaving.

 

“Sure!” Bucky says after him. “Tell Steve and Tony hi while you’re at it!”

 

Sam winks, shrugging as if to say ‘what can you do?’ as he disappears into the crowd.

 

They stand awkwardly, somehow neither of them sure of what to say.

 

“We don’t really talk much, do we?” Clint asks, feeling at a loss. All those other times with Bucky have always felt so easy. Why does this feel hard? Is it because he knows that this time there won’t be going back. This time, he’s responsible for everything he says and does. He won’t go back and change it. But what is he so afraid of? He knows now, more than ever, to take chances, because he’d rather do that than live life forever not knowing what could have happen. Look what happened because of it?

 

“No, we don’t,” Bucky agrees honestly, his nose scrunching. “Mostly your fault though. You never really want to talk to anyone other than Steve and Tasha.”

 

“Tasha, huh?” Clint mumbles. Was he always so recluse? So focused on Steve instead of everyone else? He sighs. “Sorry about that. I’m trying to work on it.”

 

“It’s fine,” Bucky says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “It’s always nice to see you around though. I guess. Hey, have you tried the chocolate covered strawberries? They’re fucking delicious.”

 

Bucky starts to lead him somewhere. Clint stops him, grabbing his hand and pulling him back.

 

“I know this is forward, and probably weird for you, but I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch with me one of these days.”

 

Bucky blinks, staring at their hands. “Lunch.”

 

Clint nods. “Or-or dinner. Whatever. It’s okay if you’re not interested. Sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

 

Bucky moves their hands, and then his fingers are sliding in between Clint’s.

 

“Not interested, huh?” Bucky says with a small huff. “Truth be told, I’ve always been interested.”

 

Clint’s throat clogs, his heart skipping a beat. He’s holding hands with Bucky Barnes. He never knew how excited he’d be just from that.

 

“Really?” Clint croaks out. Bucky chuckles, pulling him closer.

 

“I’m not the best at showing what I want. I might have also always wanted to do this.”

 

He leans in slowly, his other hand going up to cup the back of Clint’s neck. Their lips meet, and time freezes for the both of them. Clint tries to breath sharply through his nose, and when they pull away, he sucks in a deep breath.

 

“Was that okay?” Bucky asks softly, looking just a bit nervous. It’s the first time Clint has ever seen Bucky like this. It’s mesmerizing, and so, so beautiful.

 

“Do it again,” Clint mumbles. “Ah, just to make sure I’m okay with it.”

 

Bucky chuckles, but obliges, and Clint...

 

Clint feels complete for the very first time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand then just imagine a bunch of pics springing up all ranging from WinterHawk dates and Stony moments and then Peter slowly being introduced playing with his parents and fav uncles and then some cute little pics of Natasha and Peter and Natasha and Bucky both looking seriously while Clint is mid air with a gigantic smile on his face at a county fair or something and all that cutesy stuff 
> 
>  
> 
> THE END! Hope everyone enjoyed :)

**Author's Note:**

> Again, heavily based off of the movie “When We First Met” so I can’t take all the credit! Please comment your thoughts and give kudos if you liked it :D I’m almost done with the story already (around 5 to 6 chapters in total!) so I’ll be updating daily!


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